The Men in Her Life
by Lett
Summary: A collection of ONESHOTS featuring Tifa with different pairings. Story 7: During a visit to the grave of a friend, Tifa meets someone totally unexpected, but not unwelcome. TsengTifa
1. SephTi: A Mother's Love

**Type:** Fanfiction  
**Genre:** Angst/Tragedy  
**Fandom: **Final Fantasy VII  
**Pairings:** Tifa / Sephiroth  
**Rating:** M (themes)  
**Author's Notes:**

There's something inescapably lonely about motherhood. Some people come to resent the child they're carrying, thinking that the child leeches off their life in order to build his/her own. Sometimes these emotions cause the mother to become unhinged, vulnerable to demons they make in a failed attempt to cope. They commit desperate acts that would harm both the child and herself.

It would be doubly so if the child was fathered by a person you once hated, who took away everything from you, even your own heart.

Story was inspired by a dream I had and was written with the background music of the song "Dreamcatcher" by Secret Garden and "The Burdened" by Takeharu Ishimoto, from the soundtrack of Crisis Core.

**WARNING**: Don't read if you're pregnant. Or happy. This is a dark angsty fic. I don't know what I ate when I wrote this, but hey, gotta let out those dark energies somewhere.

* * *

**A Mother's Love**

_**It has to be done.**_

Warm breeze that smelled of salt and earth caressed the skin on pale arms. Long brown lashes that hid deep brown eyes parted as a sigh escaped her lips. "_Mama…?_"

_**You know it has to be done.**_

Her eyelids fluttered as she stirred; the chair creaking as the bare soles of her feet landed on the tiled surface of the floor. The white hem of her dress swayed above her knees, eager to fly with the wind. Her hands gripped the edges of the armrest, knuckles turning white. A frown appeared on her face. "_I don't want to..." _Her voice was quiet, gone quickly with the wind.

_**You have no choice.**_

Her lips quivered as her hands, pale against the dark wood of the table, reached across and closed around a black pen. Her other hand pulled a white piece of paper closer to her, flat surface scraping against the dark mahogany of the table. Her brown eyes fell upon the hand that held the paper, where the silver band on her fourth finger glinted with the orange rays of the sun.

A single sob escaped her lips but it was quickly lost to the sounds of the waves in the distance. Her unbound hair cascaded to hide her face as she leaned forward, gripping the pen in her hand.

Troubled eyes lifted to the horizon before her; the setting sun perched majestically above the violet expanse of the sea. Red, marigold, yellow, dark blue… the colors blurred as tears came to her eyes. White spots began to appear in her vision.

The sun will burn her as, she knew this. She knew...

_**You must do it. **_

"_No…! Stop it, you're not real!_" She looked around, seeking a way to quiet down the voice in her head. Her eyes glared hatefully at the orange bottles gathered in the corner of the table. Useless. With one flick of her wrist, she knocked them away, spilling their small round contents on the floor. Oh, where was he when he needed her? Her eyes fell upon a smooth metal that was half-covered by the bottles. Her hand grabbed the familiar shape of her PHS, her ring making a familiar sound against its cold surface. She grasped it tightly. Acting on her resolve before it disappeared, she dialed the only number saved in its memory.

The line was picked up after the first ring. Silence from the other end.

She took a deep breath to steady her voice. "It's me…"

There was a light chuckle from the receiver that made her heart beat a little faster. "Who else would it be?" His voice, deep and brisk, always softened for her. Only for her.

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She gripped the pen in her other hand tighter. "When… when are you coming home?"

"In a few minutes." A pause. She could hear the sound of marching in the background. _Left, right, left, right._ _The scraping of boots against hard earth._ "What's wrong?" His voice brought back her attention to him.

She bowed down until her forehead rested on the table. "Nothing. I just… wanted… to… hear… your voice." The tears she held back escaped as she closed her eyes.

He chuckled again. A deep vibrating sound that reminded her of the deep ocean. His laughter, his voice, always stirred something within her. He was her anchor. When he spoke all other voices fell silent. Even the ones that only she can hear.

She lifted her head and looked down at the blank paper before her. She knew what he wanted to hear from her; the reason for the silences that were never uncomfortable, the source of his endless patience, the steady presence that was there whenever she needed it.

Her hand picked up the pen again and began to trail the writing edge across white surface, forming the words she could never say outloud.

Three words. That's all that she wanted say, really.

He seemed to sense the restlessness in her. "I will be there soon."

She closed her eyes and exhaled. "I know." Her trembling hand released the pen and slid down to hold the fullness protruding from under the soft layers of cloth on her belly. "We're waiting. Don't…be late."

Another chuckle. "Of course…" He paused. She heard the marching stop and the collective gruff voice call '_Hail General!_'. He made no response. She could imagine the graceful wave of his fingers as he dismissed them. "I don't want to add another reason for you to hate me..."He continued as if there had been no interruption from his end.

She hummed, the closest she ever allowed herself to a laugh. "I _still _hate you." She said this with all the conviction she had.

She could almost see the smile that graced his face at this. "I know… We've come a long way, haven't we?"

She bit her lip and did not reply. His words set fire to her emotions, bidding unwelcome memories to haunt her once again. _The long blade of his sword dripping with the blood of the people that she cared about. The way the flames drowned out the stars with its heat and light. The feeling of the wind against her face as she raced towards the reactor, following her father's trail… _

The silence had gone on longer than usual. When he spoke again he suddenly seemed so far away. "I'll see you later then… Tifa…? I love you_._"

He knew better than to wait for responses that would never come. The line was dead when she replied 'farewell'. Her head turned to one side as tears made its way down her cheeks. Just like that, her resolve broke again. She threw the phone away.

_**It will never be enough, you know. His voice is not enough. HE is not enough. But I can make the pain go away.**_

She sobbed. "_Mama… do you promise?_"

_**We can be together again. Weren't we happy then?**_

She wiped her tears and nodded, slowly standing up from her chair, holding her belly. "_Yes…"_ The paper flew with the wind that scattered her long brown locks. She watched it go with detachment.

He will never know now. Never see or hear the words he always wanted to come from her.

"I'm s-sorry… I'm _so_ sorry…" She draped her arms across her midsection, her breathing heavier now. Her thoughts turned to the child within. How would he look like when he grows old? Will he have his father's eyes and hair? Will he have his strength, his intelligence, his drive? Will he join SOLDIER and turn the tides of wars? Will he get anything at all from her?

She will never know.

Her fingers trailed up to the beginning of the scar in her chest, the one that started it all. They were orphans; that was the only thing that they had in common. The man who gave her the scar killed her father, and in return she killed his mother.

When they fought his blade seared her skin and she lost; her lifeblood pouring from the wound. A part of her died that day. What remained came to slowly love the man who did it to her. He, whose hands wielded his sword with merciless accuracy, and cared for her wounds with such gentleness. He tended to her until she recovered. Until... they reached this point.

_**He is a monster who took it all away from you.**_

He gave her a part of himself. Her hand trailed down to palm the steady heartbeat inside her. Its steady rhythm was calming. Another life within her own. _Theirs._ A proof of his love and trust.

_**And today… today you shall do the same.**_

The day they fought the voice in his head was silenced. And then she began to hear her own.

Her bare feet advanced across tiles until she stood at the ledge that fronted the sea. They say being inside a mother's womb is like being underwater.

She took a deep breath. The wind in her face was cold and salty.

One step was all it took.

* * *

**A/N**: Sign up for chapter alert to be updated on the next one-shots. : )


	2. RudeTi: At First Sight

**Type:** Fanfiction  
**Genre:** Romance/General  
**Fandom: **Final Fantasy VII  
**Pairings:** Tifa / Rude  
**Rating:** T  
**Author's Notes: **

This isn't normally the pairing I write about (or particularly like) but when the muse speaks, I can do nothing but write. This was also inspired by the movie "At First Sight" of Val Kilmer and Elizabeth Shue. Hence the name sake.

Fair warning. This will probably be the only 'fluffy' oneshot I'll write in a while. We'll see where the muse takes me.

**

* * *

****At First Sight**

Every night a mysterious man comes to _Seventh Heaven_ sometime before midnight. It started about a month ago after a freak snowstorm blew throughout the Edge and disappeared just as suddenly in the morning. He came into the bar, helping an old man who was unfortunate enough to be outside with him that night. I closed early when I first heard of the incoming bad weather, but it wouldn't be right to turn them away so I offered them temporary shelter.

The old man was very talkative and within an hour, plus some liquor to ward off the cold, I already knew a lot about his family and his life. On the other hand, my mysterious stranger never said a word. He was polite and stumbled about when he first came in, disoriented from the weather outside. For the rest of the night he kept to himself and never took off his dark glasses.

I was… curious about him. Something about his general air, an absence very much like a hollow beckoning to the naturally curious. But I was never one to dare pry into the privacy of others. He was allowed his silence, and it was what drew me to him.

After they've finally tucked in the makeshift cots we've made, the mysterious man turned to me and, in a very deep, gentle voice, thanked me for letting them stay. I nodded and turned away, feeling the blush that crept along my cheeks. He had a remarkable voice; it reminded me somehow of the wind that swept through the walls of deep caves near the place I grew up in. It was solemn and… enchanting. I secretly hoped that the storm outside would last forever.

I don't even know his name. But from then on, every night, he would come at the designated time. He would walk, slowly, to the seat on the corner near the wall. Apart from giving his order and the occasional small talk, my feeble attempts at unraveling the mystery of the man was always unsuccessful. We never really talked much. He tried every available drink we had to offer before he settled on ordering the Wutainese rice wine exclusively.

I asked him if he had finally found the drink he wanted one night when I was feeling particularly brave. A small smile appeared on his lips, then he simply said, "It changes flavor everytime…"

Maybe it was because I was lonely, but I felt myself thinking about him more and more. There seemed to be so much more under the calm surface that he projected and the too few words he shared. But I was not brave enough (never really was) so I kept my distance. I went about my business, trying not to regard him for more than just another regular who came and found solace in my bar.

I started swilling the drink he liked too much in private, when I found some time on my hands. I'd like to think it was my own way to get close to him somehow.

And he was right. On some nights it tastes bitter, and some nights the alcohol burns down my throat and I'm worried that I will never be able to taste anything ever again. Sometimes, it even tastes sweet. Those were the nights when I would sit and drink beside him, drowning the worries of the day. He would be there, nursing his drink, keeping me company with his presence, not his words, until I close.

Maybe… maybe we never spoke because we never needed to.

* * *

Every night a mysterious man comes to my bar. And every night I wish he would talk to me. He never does, and I can never speak out of line, so we remain strangers. I _still_ don't even know his name.

That changed. One night a young man with flaming red hair came into the bar and, spotting my mystery man, gave out a huge sigh of relief. "So this is where you've been sneaking off to!" he announced as he made his way to him. "I've been worried, brother." He turned just as the young man's hand clapped him on his back.

I made my way to them, drawn by my curiosity. Maybe I'll finally learn more about my mysterious stranger. The younger man called him brother but I see no resemblance between them. Perhaps it was because of the hair?

"Hello, welcome to _Seventh Heaven_. What would you like to drink?" I kept my voice neutral, smiling at the flame-haired young man, resisting the urge to stare at his silent sibling.

He turned, noticing me for the first time. He looked at me up and down, and said "_Whoa! _Hello!" he flashed me a bright smile. "So this is why you've been coming here? She's beautiful, brother!" he said as he leaned his arm casually against the older man's back.

"I'm sorry?" I asked, not quite sure how to take the compliment. I couldn't help but feel the bright blush that spread across my cheek. Did I hear that right? He had been coming here for me?

"The name's Reno. What about you, babe?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but halted when Reno was nudged out of the way by the other man standing up in his seat. "Her name is Tifa. Let's go."

My eyes widened. I don't recall saying my name to him, ever. The old man that he brought that night was so talkative, he didn't even bother to introduce himself. And I never felt the need to either. For the longest time, he was just a stranger I admired from afar. I've never had the courage to wonder if he was drawn to me as well.

"Wait!" I said as he passed by me, catching him by his arm. I blushed for a moment, unused to such close proximity with him. He towered over me but not in a way that crowded. My courage fizzled out fast. "I don't… even know your name." I finished lamely, looking away.

He was silent for a while. "Its Rude…"

I let go of him immediately, stung by his words. "I-I'm sorry… It _was_ rude of me…"

"You mean you've never even introduced yourself, yo?" the younger man said, linking up his other arm with him. "His name is Rude. And we'll be seeing ya, Tifa." He gave a lazy wave and tugged forward, leaving me alone with confused thoughts.

I finally knew his name. The wine tasted sweet that night.

* * *

Every night a mysterious man comes to my bar, but from that night on, he came with his brother. They arrived at the same hour and stayed until I closed. Reno did most of the talking and soon I came to slowly know Rude through him. It was the little things about him, really, that I hoarded in my mind. The fact that he never really spoke unless spoken to, even as a child. The fact that he liked animals, had even kept a dog before the freak snowstorm happened and he got lost trying to look for the mutt. He'd traveled far, going where the winds take him and his brother. Now they have come to the city looking for work, doing odds and ends for other people.

He would ask about me and my life and I was only too happy to share. During nights when the bar was slow, I would sit with them and Reno would tell me stories about the places they've been to.

Their life was hard, especially with the death of their parents at a young age, but filled with so many poignant memories. I wondered how Rude could keep his silence, when he had so many stories to offer the world? He kept so much inside of himself and his steady presence had come to mean so much to his brother. And I have to confess, to me as well.

One night, Reno slipped me a piece of paper with a wink and a finger to his lips. With the same lazy wave that he used every time, he tugged his older brother out of the bar.

_Tifa,_

_My brother likes you, and I think you know that he can't express himself very well. He worries about being distant and believe me, he has a good reason to be. He can never bring himself to do anything about it so… I'm doing it for him. I know you're shy, and I also know that you like him too. I've seen the way you look at him and the way you smile whenever you hear his voice. _

_But there's something you need to know. Tomorrow, come to the address on the back of this paper at 10 AM. Rude will be there. This is an opportunity to be close to him. Take the risk, Tifa. I think you'll be good for each other. _

_Of course if you really prefer me, I'm available anytime. _

_The cutest guy you'll ever know,_

_Reno_

I closed the note with a smile. Tomorrow could not come soon enough.

* * *

Every night a mysterious man comes to my bar. Its been a year already and its still the same. I know his name now, I know his family and where he lived. I also know his secret. The address pointed to a hospital where Reno waited outside. He led me across whitewashed hallways and mirrored windows. It felt so unreal, like a dream that I watched from afar.

His words were not however.

"He's been blind since birth but he has an exceptional sense of hearing. That's why he's able to navigate easily around a room, and even across streets. He's taking an experimental surgery that will hopefully allow him to see."

I saw Rude as he lay prostrate on a table, surrounded by surgeons and their instruments. I watched his chest and his steady breathing, the only part of his body that I could see under the blinding white light.

I turned away and cried while Reno took me in his arms. I don't know how else to react. All this time, he could not see me, never said anything to make me hope, and now I finally know why.

"He'll be fine, Tifa. He knew the risks but he's always postponed this because he used to say he was content with the life that he's had. But now… but now there was something he thought would be worth seeing. He wants to see _you_, Tifa…"

Perhaps because he was as tired of the silences as I am.

"He didn't have to do this." I said as I wiped my tears away. But I knew that my wishes did not count in this matter. He wanted to see… I'm sure it wasn't just me, but the world of colors, lights and shapes that has been denied him ever since.

I cried because of the injustice of it all. And I worried that I had so little to offer him in return. I can never guarantee that the risk he's taking would be worth it. There was always a chance that something could go _very_ wrong, and then what? What could I possibly do for him?

I cried until my own eyes gave up on me. I can only wait and pray that he comes through. I can do without the mystery that has surrounded him for so long… but I don't think I can do without the man.

* * *

Every night a mysterious man comes to my bar… or at least used to. There was no one now but myself.

Tears welled up in my eyes as he finally came one snowy night. It had been months and about two years since I've known the man and I was close to giving up hope. Reno never came by anymore either.

"Hello Rude, it's been a while." I said as I made my way behind to bar to bring out a glass and a bottle. I was proud of the way my voice did not shake. I could not look at his face, because I knew why he had taken that long. And I had a sinking feeling that I knew that it wouldn't even matter.

He shook his head, a telltale frown was on his features, visible above his dark glasses. "Yes... indeed it has." He made his way toward his favorite stool. "It seems quiet tonight."

My eyes glanced toward the door, where the "OPEN" sign greeted my eyes but proclaimed the opposite message to the rest outside. "It's been a slow night." I lied as I sat down beside him.

I poured him a drink on his glass, which he gratefully took. I set down a napkin I took from my apron beside him and watched as he placed his glass upon it after he drank. I promised myself that if he ever came again, I will give him the napkin that held the words I've always wanted to say. I watched as the liquid on the bottom of the glass blot out the words on the thin film, scattering black ink on once white surface.

I looked at him and reached out my hand in front of his face, waving it in front of him slowly. My breath was caught in my throat and I turned away from him.

"Tifa?" he called as he turned to me. "What's wrong?"

I steeled myself and looked at the napkin in front of him, the words barely visible now. "Nothing…"

_(Rude, I think I've fallen in love with you.)_

He will never be able to read those words.

"You seem upset..." His voice, ever gentle, was laced with concern now.

And finally I can't take it, I wrap my hands around him and bury my head in his chest. His arms were strong and warm, holding me gently as I let out the tears I held back.

"I've… I've been meaning to ask…" I said when I finally trusted my voice to speak again, "How can you fall in love with someone you've never seen?"

"How can you fall for someone who barely speaks?" he replied in turn.

I laughed but my laughter soon turned to sobs. He gently disentangled me from his arms and held me at arm's length. Then, very carefully, he removed his glasses and I saw his eyes for the first time.

Stormy gray. There were dark clouds that told of the burden he's carried all these years and lightning lines of hope and joy that streaked across his irises. I watched in fascination as the world enclosed by his pupils turned to my own eyes and focused. There I was; my face, amidst the stormy sky, looking at him earnestly as if I was waiting for rain.

When I finally pulled my eyes away, I noticed that he was smiling.

"I don't need my eyes to know the qualities of a person. But Reno was right."

I frowned, not understanding his words.

"You are beautiful. I've always wanted to see that on my own."

His hands touched my cheek, and I finally allowed myself to drown in the depths of his eyes, closing mine at the last possible moment before our lips met.

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**A / N:** Sign up for chapter alerts to be notified of the following one-shots! : )


	3. VinTi: Once Upon a Time

**Type:** Fanfiction  
**Genre:** Tragedy/Romance  
**Fandom: **Final Fantasy VII  
**Pairings:** Tifa / Chaos / Vincent  
**Rating:** G  
**Author's Notes:**

Don't you ever wonder how the humans descended from the Cetra? Here's my stab at that. This should be read as a **dark** fairytale. Passive voice and cryptic messages abound. I tried to follow OG and DoC canon but may have omitted some things. This story has been floating in my mind for quite sometime now. I never really penned (or shall I say pinned?) down the writing, for a while I worried about how to present their story, but I think I'm satisfied now.

All my writings in these series have all been experiments for me, so I would love to hear about what you think of them. Until next time, watch out for GenesisTifa. (And Valentine'sNinja requested for a ZackTifa fic and that'll come after the next one.)

P.S. For another great Vin/Chaos x Tifa fic, go see Inside Out by Darknightdestiny.

**Once Upon a Time**

_**

* * *

**_

_**Once: The Cetra**_

* * *

_The embers in his eyes glowed from the memories of the thousand lifetimes he's lived, unable to die. Unable to do anything but sleep and wait until time ends. _

_There was only one thing to look forward to; when what's left of the planet is gathered for a final journey beyond the skies. _

_Only then will his torment end. _

_His own body was lost in the long years of waiting. The fire that once burned brightly in his soul and eyes dulled until they were a mockery of what they had been. He had lost his light, his warmth, but still he burned. _

_There came a time when all he wanted to do was to forget. But the Cetra never forgets. To remember was part of his punishment._

_He could remember his normal life once, living surrounded by those like him. They were all born with a duty and obligation to cultivate the young planet; follow the will of the Goddess, make the journey through their lives as their ancestors before them… and nothing else. _

_He only used to dream of following his own will, building his own life, journeying to his own promised land. _

_Then he met her. And he was never the same._

_

* * *

_

_**Twice: The Demon**_

**

* * *

**_For a long time, he existed as just another ghost in the edges of a nightmare. Never really dead, nor truly alive, he denied his urge to inhabit a host. He was in waking sleep, a dreamless dream, and centuries passed trying not to think about the eternity that still stretched ahead. _

_He tried not to think of her and it was painful. There was no place for hope in the heart of a demon. He let instincts take over so he can run away from the memories. Being a mindless beast was better than living with the punishment he was decreed to serve._

_One day his form was joined to a dying man who wanted to live. His last breath whispered of a woman he loved, of a woman he would die for, if she'd asked it of him._

_He remembered what that felt like. _

_So the dying man's wish was granted; their life force fused. He gave him life and shared a human body. When he opened his eyes, he saw a changed world. People no longer lived their lives serving a Goddess they will never see. They were free. But the time to fulfill his duty had not yet come around._

_He waited in the darkness, in a fitful sleep that tormented his host. Decades passed, but he could only hide from the world for so long, and one day the world came knocking in the coffin he buried himself in._

_He opened his eyes and saw a beautiful woman with dark brown eyes that light up as brightly as the sun when she smiled. Her eyes held a fire of their own, which reminded him of the things he fought for, the things he's lost... and found again. _

_He found her again._

_She called, saying the man she follows is on a journey to save the world and there is room for more to share their path. _

_He followed; he could do nothing else._

_The man in the red cape, as he became known to them, traveled carrying the consciousness of more than one. While his conscious host spoke of atonement; the parasite living in his body regretted nothing. _

_No, he did regret one thing: to have hurt her, even if she no longer remembered his sins. Even if she was now free of the burden of her previous lives. _

_So he kept his silence and watched. And slowly recalled the life they shared once upon a time. She was as beautiful as before, with spirit so pure and gentle like the moonlight, lighting the way in the darkness. She fought with strength she found within herself and carried much of the burden of others at her own expense. So selfless, so tragic, so forlorn._

_She, like before, fell in love with the first man who loved her from a distance. And like before, she loved him back with all her heart._

_That love is lost to him now. _

_She was within reach, but so very far from his grasp._

_

* * *

_

_**Thrice: The Damned**_

_**

* * *

**Once, in the few times that man and demon slept, they dreamed of a beautiful woman with a smile as bright as the sun but whose eyes were as sad and distant as the moon. _

_They also dreamed of her lover; the one with crimson eyes who defied the will of the Goddess, seeking freedom in a young world where there was none. He sought to escape their life of bondage; fighting for freedom, trailing violence and chaos in his wake. He even summoned a Calamity from the Skies._

_But he lost when faced with the collective might of his brothers. And when he was brought up in front of his people to be judged, he claimed he did it all for love. _

_He dared, because the woman he loved, loved him back, and there was nothing else he needed. _

_He fought, because he wanted a better future for them and the life growing in her womb. He wanted a life indebted to no one; a life of freedom and no regrets. _

_He was defeated, ultimately, because her love never meant for any violence. He could do nothing but follow, when she finally asked him to stop. _

_And so he was punished for his defiance. _

_While she was punished for her love. _

_

* * *

_

_**Ad Infinitum: Ever After**_

_**

* * *

**Their child was born as the first human, no longer one of the Cetra. He got his wish, his descendants were released from the chains to the planet, distanced forever from the Goddess' duty and grace. _

_But the woman he loved was doomed to walk the earth, trapped in an endless cycle of death and rebirth without memory, never truly able to return to the planet, never able to rest. _

_Between the countless lives she led without him, she even forgot about their love. The fire in her eyes burned for others, and it would never be directed at him ever again. _

_She will never remember._

_He, with the eyes of dying embers, became the demon that would harvest all their children at world's end. Forever bound in service to the planet he despised, doomed to the loneliness of the ages and the insanity from never being able to forget._

_They will never come together again because a love as powerful as theirs almost destroyed the planet. And from then on, the Goddess forbade happily ever afters from taking place ever again._

_

* * *

_Vincent Valentine jerked awake. He heard someone stir and glanced across the campfire to a figure huddled close to the ashes.

Tifa Lockhart was curled to one side, her beautiful face illuminated in the moonlight. There was a fresh batch of tears falling from her closed eyes.

He looked around the camp, to his other comrades who was fast asleep in peaceful clearing they were resting in. There was nothing amiss. He lifted his eyes to the distant moon, to the endless stars that dotted the night and wiped the tears running down his cheeks.

There was a lingering heaviness in his chest; he could not remember why.

* * *

**A/N**: Sign up for chapter alerts to be notified of the succeeding one-shots!


	4. GenTi: And Then There Was Light

**Type:** Fanfiction  
**Genre:** Romance/Humour  
**Fandom: **Final Fantasy VII  
**Pairings:** Tifa / Genesis  
**Rating:** T  
**Author's Notes:**

What would you do if you only had a few hours to live? For Tifa Lockhart, it was very clear...

This fic has lots of dark humour in it. Some OOCness should be expected.

Happy Valentines Day everyone!

**And Then There Was Light**

Meteor was coming to destroy the world in a matter of hours. And there was nothing anyone can do about it.

They failed.

* * *

Tifa Lockhart had no tears to shed. Unlike the others who refused to accept the end of the world, she took the news with no theatrics. She's had enough drama in her life, thank you very much. If she was going out, she would do it with grace. She's not going to bawl like Yuffie, curse like Cid or shoot things randomly like Barret. Even the robotic cat, with no living internal systems to speak of, wept hysterically.

Not her. Oh no, she's going to keep it together till the end.

Everyone dies at some point. That's a fact. She didn't even bat an eyelash when Aerith died. It's not that she didn't care; she tried to cry, she really did, but the tears just weren't coming out. Everything was bottled up, kept under wraps, just waiting for the right moment to burst out of her in a torrent of hysteria and tears. That's just how she is.

At least she got the silver-haired bastard before she died.

And she got him _good_.

* * *

Cloud eventually rallied the others to go out there and find a way to stop the impending doom. Such a waste of time. She smiled sadly as she thought about how she would have followed him blindly not too long ago. But now she was tired.

She had to draw the line somewhere. Running around like a headless chicken, bleeding for the planet and becoming a victim to an unrequited, forgotten love was just too much. Seriously. Now that she was going to die there was no point anymore. No need to hold on to those feelings.

She left the group, slinking away when none was wiser. There was just no way she could explain it in a way they'd understand, so she opted to rush out of the back door when no one was looking. Thank the Goddess the Highwind was docked at the time.

She doubted they were going look for her especially when the chunk of life-ending rock only seemed inches away.

She instinctively looked up at the sky. Seeing the glowing ball of eerie mass that looked like a red pimple interposed over the blue face of heaven sent chills throughout her body.

She had to hurry.

* * *

There was only one place on her mind. Ground Zero: **Midgar**. She didn't have a death wish... not exactly. But there was something she needed to do and she could only do it there.

She'd hoped, at one point, that she could have gone with someone (preferably one whose hair didn't look like the wrong end of a chocobo) when she did what she was about to do. But it was fine. She's a big girl. She can do it by herself. Even if it meant that she was going to die alone.

And if Cloud thought he could get her as a consolation prize well, he had another thing coming. He can chase his horizon; she will no longer follow his pipe dreams.

And she, well, there was only one thing she could do, really.

Before she dies, Tifa Lockhart was going to the movies.

* * *

She'd always been afraid of the dark, though she's never allowed anyone to notice. She could never cough up enough courage to go inside movie houses with its stifling, surrounding darkness (and who-knows-what-else-thrived in that place).

Okay, so it was partly her father's fault. He thought it was a good idea to lock her up in the broom closet under the stairs whenever she behaved badly. Bad behaviour had broad scope, including sneezing in an unladylike behaviour.

Give her a monster any day, but being alone in a place where you can't even see your own fingers? No freaking way.

Cid mentioned there was a famous movie house in Sector 8 where he watched a film not too long ago. She found the place easily. L VEL SS, what she assumed was the title of the movie, loomed like toothless grin at entrance. Just beyond the doors was the welcoming darkness.

She fought the urge to turn around and die like a normal person, with a view of the sky as things ended. But she had to do this now because she's never going get another chance.

She pushed the revolving door and entered the building. She placed her hand on her hips and looked around, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. After a few seconds of biting down her teeth to keep from screaming like a little girl, she could finally see.

Her surroundings wasn't much of a sight; there were peeling posters on the wall, discarded soda cans and boxes of stale popcorn littered the floor. The ticket booth emitted a weak, flickering light. A large sign proclaimed "PLEASE FALL IN LINE" in front of the glass.

She pondered whether or not to get herself a ticket but she shrugged the thought away with the urge to find something on the snack counter. These were part of the experience of watching a movie, or so she was told. But Gaia knows there was no point anymore.

With the resolve of those who knew they were going to die, she proceeded to the large double doors, careful to avoid any critters on the floor. A minute passed as she steeled herself, pushed past the steel barrier and entered the darkness.

_This is where I'm going to spend the last seconds of my life_, she thought as the thick, heavy layer of void surrounded her. She felt panic surge up her throat but she continued to walk through the narrow path until it opened up to the rows of seat.

Idly, she wondered what sound her body would make when they're flattened under the plates. Waves of nausea attacked her as she shut her eyes. She had to fight another urge to run away screaming like a banshee. So many thoughts ran rampant around her head; it took several seconds to finally register the fact that a movie was already running.

There was light from the screen that projected moving pictures of a woman sitting among grasses and wildflowers. The woman smiled up to the camera as it focused on her sun-kissed face and spoke, addressing a man standing not far from her in the next frame. The man leaned in and kissed the woman as their fingers laced together. Slow moving orchestra music was played as she leaned back into the ground followed by the man.

An incredulous sigh escaped her lips as her eyes took in what was obviously a romantic encounter between the two. She frowned and shook her head. This was what she'd been missing? Cheap distractions to while away time with? Maybe she should just have stolen Vincent's gun and ended her misery. The way they were sucking face was seriously getting on her nerves.

Well alright, she was bitter. She never sucked face with anyone before and she was going to die a virgin.

But there was nothing she could do about that now. She sighed and let her eyes roam the expanse of the silver screen. Maybe that was the lure of the cinemas. It's easy to forget your problems and make believe; so easy to think that you could just walk right through and step into the beautiful meadow on the screen.

And this cheap distraction before her eyes... well, it was perhaps the closest she will ever get to having an experience of love.

A glint of red caught her eye, out of place in the darkness of the cinema.

"_HOLY METEOR!_" She bellowed as she swivelled into a fighting position, anticipating a mythical monster of the dark to jump at her. Her heart beat so fast, as if it was ready to burst out of her ears.

There was a pale face framed by reddish orange hair that floated at very center of the room. She was confused at first, thinking the worst. But the head was, upon closer inspection, attached to a body.

"H-hello?" She said as she waved, hoping to catch the person's eye and stepped closer. She climbed the stairs between the seating rows. When she was close enough, she noticed that the person was flat-chested. Definitely a man.

She was only a few feet away from him now. She couldn't rightly say if he was breathing or not. The light was too weak and changed colour every now and then so it was hard to figure out if there was movement on his chest. Her eyes trailed cross the broad expanse of his shoulders and other areas visible from the shadows of the cinema. She noted his relaxed pose, the shape of muscles under the red leather on his shoulders and arms... She traced her eyes across his angular jaw, wide thick lips, high bridged nose and straight copper hair that fell past his cheeks unevenly. His eyes were hidden beneath the layers of his hair.

_Is he dead?_ She thought as he remained still despite her approach. _Goddess, I wouldn't want to share this movie house with a corpse, even a good looking one... _

"_**BOO!**_" he said suddenly and she jumped back a few good meters in response. She landed into a defensive position with her fists raised in front of her, ready to defend against blows... but none came.

The man hadn't moved. Her eyes locked on to two points of blue, reflecting light like sharp silvers in the darkness. For a moment, she thought of blue eyes that promised to be there for her if she ever needed him.

She blinked to clear her thoughts. The eyes that stared at her were lighter in colour and promised nothing in return. A small smile tugged the corner of his lips as he turned his head back to face the screen again. He made no move otherwise.

She's been had! "T-that was quite rude!" Tifa said as she lowered her arms and tried to slow her racing heart. "I thought you were _dead _mister!"

"I don't consider being ogled at quite polite either." His voice was deep and rich, reminding her of churning sea during storms. That voice, that body, that face. There was something dangerously sexy about it...

_Where the hell did that thought come from?_ Tifa blinked repeatedly and felt a traitorous blush creep through her cheeks. "Whatever. Like I said, I thought you were dead..." she muttered as she cleared her wandering thoughts. "What are you doing here anyway?"

He turned to look at her again and shifted in his seat to face her. His eyes shone with amusement as he opened his mouth and said:

_"When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end,  
The goddess descends from the sky,  
Wings of light and dark spread afar,  
She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting."_

He recited the lines with his head inclined upwards a little; lips carefully forming words eloquently delivered. For a moment she wondered if he was really a poet from an age past, come to weave tragic stories about the end of the world to willing audiences.

_World's end? Goddess' gift? _She looked at him suspiciously. He was dressed in the familiar leathers of a fighter. Isn't it a little too late to be preaching predictions about the end of the world? "O-_kay_ crazy person, I'll just go and find another cinema to die in." She turned and started to walk away when suddenly the ground jerked violently around her. She struggled for balance and for a moment, a nameless panic gripped her. This wasn't exactly how she pictured dying. She thought that at least she could sit down!

The tremors caused debris from the ceiling to fall all around her. She closed her eyes and was sure the end had come but in a few seconds the earth was still again. She cracked open her eyes and was met with the sight of the stranger dusting himself off, his brows knitted together in a frown. A part of the ceiling landed where he sat behind her; now he was standing on the aisle itself, a little further in front of where she stood.

_That must've been some jump_, she thought as she trusted herself to move another step closer to him. "A-Are you alright?" she asked, wincing at the tremor in her voice.

"How is a person supposed to watch in peace..." he muttered before he trailed off.

_What the?_ That was his concern? They were going to die very soon and he was still focused on the god-awful movie? "Are you seriously here to watch the stupid film?" she blurted before she could stop her mouth.

The man looked at her, his annoyance plain in his face. "That's usually why you go to a movie house, is it not?"

She shut her open mouth, and frowned, unable to refute his point. "Yes, well... Meteor..."

His dusting movements halted; eyes becoming as cold as the surface of the moon. "I'm well aware of what the Hero has done," he spoke quietly, a tinge of sadness mixing in his voice.

She did not like his tone at all. "'Hero'? Who the hell calls him a _hero_ after all he's done?!" Her eyes flashed with self-righteous anger.

"I knew him." He studied her stiff posture for a moment, then spoke slowly:

_"My soul, corrupted by vengeance  
Hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey  
In my own salvation."_

_Vengeance... salvation?_ She was getting tired of his cryptic messages. "Why can't you speak normally? We're about to die and..."

He sighed audibly, looking at the heavens as if pleading for something he could never have. He turned to her when he lowered his head. There was something different about his cold blue eyes. "You're right. Come closer," he beckoned with a graceful inward curl of his fingers.

She looked at him suspiciously then obeyed, compelled by curiosity and his voice.

In a move she never would have expected, the stranger bridged the remaining space between them. He placed one hand on her waist, the other settled behind her neck as he kissed her passionately, savouring the softness of her lips and teasing what he couldn't reach with his tongue.

Oh, he was _good_.

She told herself to pull away, to sucker punch the idiot for invading her personal space. She had never been kissed before and most certainly not like _this_. But a part of her rejoiced because now she can die with a little more dignity knowing she finally had her first kiss.

And it was _good_.

"_Goddess_..." he whispered against her cheek as he pulled away and breathed deeply. "I'm sorry..."

Tifa frowned. Where does this guy get off, stealing kisses and apologizing? She would have felt better if he'd simply stolen it. Now that he said sorry, it felt like he was giving it back.

"It doesn't make things alright," she said in an annoyed tone as she pushed him away and placed her hands around her arms, hugging herself. "I don't know why you bothered."

"I wasn't apologizing for the kiss."

She turned an annoyed glare at him.

"It was for..." he shook his head then flicked away a collection of red hair that fell across his features. He sighed. "I've always wanted to know how it felt like to kiss a beautiful woman."

Tifa placed her hands on her hips and tried (and failed) to rein in her temper. She'd been used! "Had it been any other day I would have beaten you to a pulp if I'd even suspected you breathing in my direction." She pointed an accusing finger at him. "You seriously have issues mister!"

"Says a woman who goes to movie houses to die."

She opened her mouth to retort, but could think of nothing to say. She pouted instead.

"Are you so certain of the end?" he said as he pressed his advantage and took one step closer to her.

"J-Just what rock have you been living under lately?" she said as she took a step back. "Seen the big METEOR in the sky? It's not exactly discriminate as to who it would land on, but I can tell that youwould get along very well with it."

A slight smile appeared at the edges of the stranger's lips. He took another step forward.

"_Legends shall speak of a sacrifice at world's end_..."  
"**Legends shall speak of a sacrifice at world's end**..."

Silence between them. Tifa glanced at the screen where the actor holding the actress' hand said exactly same line at the same time the stranger in real life did. She turned back to him, a little bewildered, but finally understanding some of his words. "You're quoting Loveless," she said as she met his eyes. "What about that. Maybe you're not _that _crazy after all."

A smirk appeared on his lips, but it was hard to tell what he was thinking. "It's not your fault if your education has suffered. But I imagine you could be a decent person if you tried."

She grew uncomfortable under his gaze. She tugged the hair that fell in front of her face away and turned to face him squarely. This has got to be the strangest encounter she's ever had with anyone in her two decades of life. "Maybe we started off on the wrong foot."

A small smile tugged the corner of his lips but he said nothing. His smouldering eyes kept her under constant watch. "Do you still intend to go somewhere else?"

She shook her head. She guessed it wouldn't matter either way. "I was thinking I would be alone when I died. But I guess company wouldn't be so bad," she gestured behind her. She watched with amusement as he waited for her to sit before he followed, settling down beside her.

She tried to focus on the movie. The actress was now weeping silently, tears trailing down across her cheek. How could she be crying now when a few minutes earlier she was having a randy time with her lover? She promptly lost interest and shifted, trying to find a position where she can glance at the stranger from the corner of her eyes. She straightened up and chanced a sideways glance at him and found, to her pleasure and irritation, the man watching her as well.

"What now?!" she injected as much annoyance as she could in her voice.

"Why are you really here?" His eyes were of a blue so light it almost seemed grey.

She frowned at the invasiveness of his question. But she could never lie if she was asked a direct question. "I've... always been afraid of the dark. I figured, if I was going to die, I should conquer my fears so that I could face the end with no regrets." She turned back to him. "What about you?"

He did not take his eyes away. "I came here looking for an ending. Or perhaps, a beginning."

"And did you find it?"

"Do you know why the final act is missing?"

"What?" She was taken aback by his abrupt change in topic.

"Loveless. Act VI, the final act, is missing. There is no conclusion to the story," he repeated.

"No. No, I don't. I didn't even know what was written in it until a few min..."

There was a rumbling in the distance and the tremors returned, stronger than before. This was the real deal now. Tifa instinctively grabbed the hand beside hers.

He held and squeezed hers in reassurance. The movement of the earth around them intensified and an unearthly whistling sound, like an echo from the depths of the earth, became louder. Her thoughts and worries flew away as she focused on how warm and firm his hand felt against hers. He gently he drew her closer to his chest as he leaned in, his mouth stopping so very near the junction of her neck and her ear.

"I think I finally know... Its missing because it is yet to be written." He said it slowly, seductively, like how a lover whispers secrets.

Goosebumps appeared all over her body. She was trembling, and she no longer knew or cared whether it was due to fear or desire.

"_Even if the morrow is barren of promises_--"

"Hey stranger," she said, cutting off his words. The whistling sound in the air got louder by the second. "Thank you for sharing my moment of death."

She kissed him without waiting for him to respond. She grabbed on to what she could as he drew her to his lap, surging forward to meet her advances with equal fervour. The liquid heat on her mouth, the hard solidness of his arms and body around her... this was how it felt to be desired. His mouth, his tongue, his hands, overloaded her systems, producing sensations she thought she would never feel. She was grateful she was going to die soon because she was sure she couldn't take this for much more longer. She was going to burn from the heat that surged throughout her.

She was sure she finally lost it when she felt the tears she kept inside for nearly a decade rush out of her eyes. Then she began to hear wings unfurl and rustle all around her.

She never thought she would be the hallucinating type when she died. But when she dared open her eyes she saw what could only be the angel of death, with one dark wing wrapped around them, looking up at her with blue eyes that promised nothing.

She had never felt more alive, even as the world burned around them.

"Hold on tight," was all he said.

Then there was _light_.

* * *

"_To become the dew that quenches the land_  
_To spare the sands, the seas, the skies  
I offer thee this..."_

_

* * *

_

_Reviews would be appreciated! Next up is Fack (ZackTifa).  
_


	5. Fack: A Diary

**Type:** Fanfiction  
**Genre:** Drama  
**Fandom: **Final Fantasy VII  
**Pairings:** Tifa / Zack  
**Rating:** T  
**Author's Notes:**

This is a diary of a mother of one, beloved of two, and lesser of three.

This fic was prompted by Valentine's Ninja, wanting to read a tragic Fack. I also dedicate this fic to my good friend Jenn. For Lucas, her anchor, inspiration, and one true love.

**A Diary**

_...of a Mother of One_

_...Beloved of Two_

_...And a Lesser of Three_

_

* * *

Day S_

_(Signs)_

_It never gets easy. Growing older doesn't put an end to the hardships and confusion you live with as a child. _

_In fact, it gets harder. _

_But they don't tell you that when you're young and you look up to adults who seem to have all the answers in the world. It's something you find out on your own like a surprise gift that you wish you could trade back._

_If only you could. _

_I watched Lucas run around the backyard earlier, chasing a blue dragonfly that hovered low. There were dozens of them flitting about in the sky. They bring news of rain._

_He's grown up so fast. It seemed like yesterday when he was helpless in my arms. _

_Soon he'll ask me questions I won't be able to answer. Like yesterday, he asked me where his father was. He's starting to notice. _

_One day I would have to tell him. _

_I can only hope that he'll understand._

_

* * *

  
_

_Day T_

_(Truth)_

_He loves us._

_If he could, he would be with us every single day._

_This was true._

_But it's not enough._

_

* * *

  
_

_Day Z_

_(Zack)_

_I met him when I was just a slip of a girl who took unnecessary risks. He was a strong warrior with a carefree laugh and hair that stuck out in all directions behind his head. I knew of another who's hair was as indefatigable as the tallest peaks of the mountains nearby. But while the latter's hair was the colour of sunlight, Zack's hair was as dark as a starless night. _

_He and his general were on a mission. I was to guide them through the mountain trail near where I grew up. They were heading to an old research facility that belonged to the company they worked for. _

_That was all._

_Oh, if only that could have been all..._

_

* * *

  
_

_Day P_

_(Promise)_

_I spoke to him because I wanted to know what happened to a boy I knew. The one with cerulean eyes that shone brightly one star-studded night, along with a promise that he would come save me if I ever got into trouble. _

_It was a promise of a boy who would become a man for me, who would come back for me._

_The day came when he fulfilled that promise. _

_But it was at the cost of his own life._

_

* * *

  
_

_Day G_

_(Give)_

_I should have died that night with Cloud._

_This life is not mine to live, but his._

_If only I can give it back. _

_

* * *

  
_

_Day O_

_(Oath)_

_One night changed everything. _

_I swore, as I watched the flames that slowly devoured my town, that I would bring down the company that caused it all. That their deaths would not have been for naught. That I would not rest until I've exacted revenge upon the madman who killed them just because he could._

_And he... he who almost died fighting, swore to be there for me. To cherish every beat and moment of our extended life. To make the sacrifice of his fallen friend worthwhile. _

_I thought everything ended that night._

_But something else also began. _

_

* * *

  
_

_Day C_

_(Capture)_

_Revenge was foremost on my mind. Our journeys were long and we shared everything; food, shelter, comfort, warmth... I never thought there could still be room in our hearts for love. _

_But he was a man. And I had become a woman._

_In time he claimed what had only been Cloud's. _

_But he was never able to fully give me his heart in return. _

_

* * *

  
_

_D-Day_

_I could only watch as the world nearly ended. At the center of it all was the man we chased for over half a decade. I wanted to face him; to make him bleed and make up for all the dreams that died with everyone else that night. _

_But I could not go. Zack forbade me. He knew I was carrying our child. _

_And there was another reason...I knew she would be there. We thought her lost and dead. We gave up searching years ago. _

_But she was alive. Aerith, the love of his life was still alive._

_

* * *

  
_

_Day S_

_(Stay)_

_He ruffled Lucas' brown hair and picked him up as the little one threw his head back and squealed with glee. He turned to me and smiled, his blue eyes sparkling as brightly as his son's. _

_On days like this, it's so easy to pretend that we're just another normal family. _

_But I know he has to leave again soon. He never stays for long. _

_

* * *

  
_

_Day F_

_(Fair)_

_When Lucas was born, he insisted that his name would be used. Lucas Lockhart Fair. The name brings a smile to my lips. _

_One day, I'm sure it would bring tears to the eyes of another. _

_

* * *

  
_

_Day P_

_(Perfect)_

_How will I explain it to my son when he gets older? _

_I can only say that I love him. And his father will always love him as well. _

_But he will never leave her. She will always wait for him in the home she made for them. _

_The perfect woman. To a perfect man._

_And I..._

* * *

_Day B_

_(Blue)_

_I've only ever loved twice. Men whose eyes held the colours of deep waters. One of them sparkled like a lagoon on a clear day. The other held the colour of deep ocean. _

_They loved me. This was true._

_But it's not enough. _

_One of them waits for me in the next life._

_And the other already promised his hand to another before I even came to his life._

_

* * *

  
_

_Day W_

_(Wait)_

_He will never leave his wife. _

_And I will always wait for him to come back to us. _

_

* * *

  
_

_Day L_

_(Live)_

_I should have died that night with Cloud. _

_Perhaps I did. _

_But I will have to live for Lucas now._

_When he's older... I can only hope he'll understand. _

_

* * *

  
_

A/N; Sign up for chapter alerts for the next one-shots! Next up is RuTi.

Why don't you review? I would love to read what you thought of my oneshots so far. : )


	6. RuTi: Opus 1 of 5

**Opus**

**A / N:** I always thought that boys who were born with a silver spoon in their mouths would be able to play one pansy instrument or another. Rufus should be no exception. This fic breaks the record for the length of my oneshots. (It's almost as long as my Generith fic, I Need You Aquarius and that one's broken down into 5 chapters).

I blame Yo Yo Ma's excellent cello for haunting my better moments. This is also inspired in part by **Ivory Keys **of** JessicaJ** who's musical motifs challenged me to attempt to make my characters more _melodious_ as well. Go check out her fics for brilliant VinTi AUs.

_Itals_ = _Tifa's thoughts. _

Normal Font = regular narrative

* * *

_Mama always said that music was one language everyone in the world could understand, but only few could speak. _

_She was right. _

_Fortunately, I was one of them. My voice was my piano and once upon a time it was all I knew._

_He was different though. _

_Music was simply a distraction to him; a weakness to indulge in his spare time. For all intents and purposes, he was dead to the world. No tears. No blood. Nothing..._

_Was there a man, still, behind the mask of cold indifference? I've wondered about it for a time. _

_I thought there was none. _

_But then I heard him play..._

_

* * *

_

**_Prima Volta _**

**_(the first time) _**

Tifa found herself hopelessly lost in the bowels of a great ship en route to Costa del Sol. She was separated from the others after they split up to investigate what caused the alarms to set off. Everyone was on edge; there were whispers of a black-cloaked man spotted among the passengers and that spelled trouble if that man was the one they were chasing. As stowaways, the group had to remain out of sight. But as someone who had a score settle with said black cloaked man, the possibility that he could be on the ship was a siren's call she was unable to resist. She wore a Shin-Ra grunt soldier uniform which provided cover for her face and most of her womanly features but did not hide the long hair she braided. Then she went in search of him.

The sound of the bound strands swaying a little past her knees behind her was like a timer that ticked the seconds away. She'd been wandering for a while and was deep in the underbelly of the metal behemoth. She walked through hallways with doors that never really lead anywhere and missed seeing the sky instead of vaulted metal plates above her. Despite the danger of her scouting mission, she felt at peace. It was so easy to be lulled into complacency by the echoes of the ocean; even the odd creaks of metal every now and then seemed calming somehow.

A soft melody floated through the near silence, teasing her ears. She snapped her head to the direction of the sound. Was that a violin? The notes were too low... She walked carefully toward the source. A part of her was grateful for some sign of human presence after all this time. She closed her eyes and listened to it more closely. It was a cello and the melodies that flowed effortlessly from the instrument told her the player was no novice. She followed the sound to a large, brightly lit carpeted room.

There was a black grand piano in one corner and, amidst the arraignment of other stringed instruments, sat a man dressed in white. His back was to her as he caressed the instrument perched between his thighs and played on, oblivious to her presence. She could see the player's arm as it wove sideways and back, executing the bowing movements flawlessly. Her eyes fluttered closed and she sank to experience the depths of the music. The notes were hypnotic; creating a gentle wake in air. It slid through space gently, gracefully, like swan on a lake.

The lonely cries of the music settled and wrapped around her and she felt cushioned by the sea's womb. For a moment all became still. She swore she could almost hear the heartbeat of the ocean itself if she listened hard enough...

The music ended as gently as it began. She blinked as if she suddenly woke from a dream. The precariousness of her situation came back to her in full force; she was in the presence of a stranger and things could get dangerous quickly. She tensed and slowly started to step back toward the exit. She looked around the room to make sure that they were still alone. The musician made no move and still had his back to her.

She was almost out of the door when he heard the voice that made her blood grow cold.

"Miss Lockhart..." She'd recognize that voice anywhere ever since she heard it at the top floor of Shin-Ra tower. Did he have eyes at the back of his head?

"Please close the door on your way out."

She stood stunned as he turned and met her eyes square on; hers were wide-eyed and disbelieving, his amused and mocking. He made no further move and simply watched her go.

She closed the door and ran as fast as she could toward the opposite direction. No one followed her and after a few frantic turns and stairwells she found herself at the deck. She struggled to calm herself and clear her mind, half expecting his lackeys to jump out at her any second now.

The sun dipped lower in the sky and her heart rate returned to normal. No one came looking for her. In time AVALANCHE regrouped and they reached Costa del Sol without any further incident. She shook off the strange encounter from her mind and focused on the mission they had to fulfil.

But she could not forget him. At nights she dreamt of mysterious masked musicians, flying swans and a haunting melody that touched, wrapped and caressed her form like an invisible hand. She would wake up with a feeling of emptiness inside her that she could not explain.

_Why did he let her go?_

* * *

_To be continued..._


	7. Ruti: Opus 2 of 5

**A / N: Read the first part, Opus 1 of 5 in the previous chapter if you haven't. This chapter is a continuation of the previous one's story. **

**_

* * *

_**

_His name was a lingering legacy of everything that was wrong in the world. _

_I hated his guts; what kind of a man would be so vain about a speech mere minutes after his own father died? _

_A heartless bastard, that's what. _

_But when he plays, he's like a completely different person. He goes away to a special place and takes whoever is listening with him. _

_His music tells me that there's so much more to him than he lets on. That he's human still, underneath the mask of a monster he wore for so long. _

_He can still __**feel**__._

_

* * *

_

**_Lontano_**

**_(from a distance, distantly)_**

Gold Saucer was a carnival for the senses. She wandered through brightly lit streets and stalls that sold all manners of food, souvenirs and the occasional weapon. Everything that moved competed for her ear's attention and the stationary ones threatened to blind her eyes. She was surrounded in a whirlwind of smells, color, people, all stirred together by the cold Corel desert wind.

Amidst the nauseating conflux her eyes came to fixate on something in the distance; the flutter of a pink skirt, the back of the head of a man whose blond spikes snagged in one of the overhead signs. She didn't hear the giggle that escaped the brunette's lips as the man untangled his hair; she didn't really need to. She could see the way their hands were linked and the way she pressed closer to him to brush the nonexistent dust in his sunny hair.

The headache that started from the assault on her senses intensified. Suddenly the cheery upbeat music became too much and she could swear that it was mocking her. She turned and bolted for the transport tubes as if her life depended on it, plunging head first to the nearest hole.

A few heartbeats later she found herself in a place with far less light and no one in sight. Tears freely ran down her cheek and she wiped it away. She heard the scuffle of footfalls approaching and flattened herself against the walls, hiding behind the large sign of an arrow that pointed further down.

Two men and a woman passed her by, bantering with each other. She recognized the trio of bald round head, long red ponytail and short cropped blonde that passed her. _Turks_, she muttered with a softly veiled curse. All she wanted to do was lose herself in anonymity but why does she keep running into people she did not want to see?

She took a moment to compose herself and emerged from the shadows after they were gone. She felt the cold caress of the desert wind on her wet cheeks as her tears ran again. It seems she wasn't anywhere near stopping. She had to find someplace she could cry in peace and followed the breeze. Soon, she found herself standing in an open amphitheatre. The lights were dimmed and silence settled like a soft cloth on the empty seats. This place will do. She wiped the tears from her eyes and made her way down the stairs, looking for a seat in a dark corner where she can bawl to her heart's content.

But she was not as alone as she thought. A movement caught her eye further down: there was a man in front dressed completely in black. He stood and her eyes fell to the large black case that leaned on the seat beside him. The way the thin top belled out and curved was unmistakeable... She froze. There was just enough light to make out the cut of his blonde hair, the pale skin that has seen too little sun, the ice blue eyes and the infuriating smirk that always seemed to adorn his face.

She _almost_ tumbled down the stairs had her feet not met solid ground when gravity pulled. She gave one last wipe under her eyes and gave him the fiercest glare she could summon. One man making her cry tonight was quite enough; she won't give another the satisfaction of seeing her run away.

Moments trickled by as neither made a move. He shifted first; his eyes lowered to stare at some fixed point at her face, somewhere below her eyes. Then his hand reached out and shouldered his cello. He gave her an unreadable look, his face half-hidden by the shadows. He headed in the opposite direction and ascended a side set of stairs that led to the stage. He pulled out a chair and dragged it to the center. With a flick of his hair, he sat and held the cello to his side. His hand lingered over the clasp before he freed his instrument from its confines. He bent his head and adjusted the tailspike, then softly trilled the strings, checking for sound. He dragged his bow across and played a low, mournful note that resounded across the empty amphitheatre.

She frowned as he went on to play smoothly, suddenly oblivious of her. What was he doing? She should go away now, while he was distracted. But she sensed no immediate danger and she came closer instead, like moth drawn to flame.

He did not look at her again, and she closed her eyes. She felt the music wash over her like a rush of warmth on a cold morning. The tension drained from her almost instantly and she relaxed, leaned backward and looked up at the night sky. He played on, weaving a string of low notes that seemed to rise toward the heavens, taking her with it. She stopped resisting her tears and let them flow, emptying herself of her emotions.

When she opened her eyes, the few stars visible from the glare of the park stare back at her. She smiled ironically; they could never compare to the sea of stars of the Nibel sky, but what's left above her shone brightly, defiantly, as if to make up for the others that winked out in the night. The stars were always there, she thought, all she had to do was look.

_Like hope._

She didn't feel so cold anymore. She thought she would still feel sad but instead she felt only... relief. The music that wove around her was a balm to her soul; it was as if she was being cleansed and freed of all the false hopes she held on to for so long. And now... it was ok. The man she thought she loved had made his choice. She can only let him go.

She can let him go now. Her tears stopped coming.

She turned to the man whose shape outlined by the stage lights in the background. His long and delicate fingers pressed down the strings at the neck of his cello, while his other arm swayed back and forth with the bow. He stroked carefully, almost reverently, staying true to a rhythm that drew forth his music. His eyes remained closed and there was suddenly something very vulnerable about him.

He was one with his instrument; when he made a note linger, her heart soared. His music was telling her that whatever sadness she had to suffer through, no matter the burdens she bore, it was going to be okay.

A sense of calm spread throughout her as she continued to watch and listen. Was this what he intended all along? To play in front of her… _for_ her? How did he know how she felt… what she needed to feel?

She felt indebted to him now, somehow… She had to do something. She looked up at the sky again. Perhaps here, underneath the Corel sky, with only the brightest stars as witness, she can make another promise that would close the wound in her heart once and for all.

_I promise... _

_ (Hey, why don't we make a promise?)_

_If you ever descend to the level where the rest of us exist in _

_(Umm, if you get really famous and I'm ever in a bind...)_

_I'll save you _

_(You come save me, all right?)_

_I don't want to be rescued, don't want a hero anymore... but I need to feel hope. _

_(Whenever I'm in trouble, my hero will come and rescue me.) _

_Whatever your intentions were, you made me experience that tonight _

_(I want to at least experience that once.)_

_So you better not fall_

_ (Come on-! Promise me-!)_

Then the music stopped. She turned to see Shinra put away his instrument and stand. He gently carried his cello and deposited it inside the case much like how a father tends to his child in a crib. He turned it around and picked it up through one of its straps, then hooked it over one shoulder.

She watched him as he descended from the stage and came out near her aisle, headed for the exit. "Shinra..." His name escaped her lips faster than she could censor herself. She bit her lip; whatever words she wanted to utter wouldn't make a difference anymore. He didn't need to know; didn't need to further complicate the way things were between them. He was already halfway to the exit before he turned back to her with a smirk on his mouth. "You know, an applause wouldn't have hurt."

A smile threatened to break on her face. _Not yet. _She raised an eyebrow instead. "If you played better, you wouldn't have to ask."

"Ingrate." He muttered, shaking his head as he walked away.

She waited until he was gone before she allowed the smile to bloom. She lifted her eyes up to heaven, at the brightly shining stars.

"I promise..."

* * *

_To be continued... Yeah, patience is a virtue. XD_


	8. RuTi: Opus 3 of 5

_In the last few months of our journey, so many things happened. _

_I remember our meeting at the Northern Crater. He was icier than the frozen landscape around us. There was a moment when everything broke; Cloud went mad, the earth shook, and he met my eyes. He ordered everyone to board their helicopter just before the walls collapsed around us. _

_He saved us that day._

_In Junon, he ordered our public execution, starting with my own. I barely escaped. _

_AVALANCHE regrouped. The impending doom to the planet was avoided. For a moment, the future seemed bright. _

_Then I heard about his death in Midgar. I grieved in silence even though I knew the world was better off without him. I could only think about what a tragedy it was that I will never be able to hear him play again. _

_But he survived. He changed. _

_And we met again._

_

* * *

_

_**Silenzio**_

_**(silence)**_

_**

* * *

**_

She was in the middle of nowhere. Old Bessie, the truck she loved and put together from scraps salvaged in the ruins of Midgar gave up on her somewhere between the vast Chocobo Grasslands and Kalm. She opened up the hood and was almost scalded by the intense heat and smoke which radiated from the engine. She coughed and cussed, unable to believe her rotten luck. "Of all the places to... Outdated mother of..." Her string of curses would have made Cid proud.

She calmed down, went back inside her truck and grabbed her PHS. She thought of phoning Cloud to see if he can come pick her up on his way back from deliveries; that's _if_ he'd answer the phone at all. Though if he didn't, so what? She had other friends. She cursed again when she saw that there was no signal in the area. Her battery was almost empty too. The thought of walking to Kalm in the sweltering heat had her cursing again.

Then a sign caught her eye, partially hidden behind shrubs:

**Healin Lodge**

**3 miles**

The facility was close enough to reach within the hour. She could call from there! Maybe she'd try Johnny. Yeah, Johnny's a safer bet because at least she knew where he was most of the time. With her mind made up, she trudged up the mountain path and paused as another realization came to her. Reno called earlier that week and told her that the President was in Healin and wanted to see Cloud.

That gave her pause. _Shinra_ was in Healin. She had mixed feelings when she first heard the news that he still lived, and she eventually settled on being indifferent about it. Things were… safer that way. She squared her shoulders and continued her trek. _So what if he was there? _She thought as she walked. She owed him a good punch or two after the stunt he pulled at her in Junon. Maybe she could find that beloved instrument of his and use it to whack him on the head. _Yes, that could make us even… _Thoughts of revenge kept her company until she arrived at her destination. She found no one at the reception area; the lodge seemed empty.

_That can't be right. Where are the people? _She wandered beyond the main foyer and stuck her head in one of the rooms, looking for human presence.

"Who are you?" The authoritative voice startled her and she snapped her head around quickly, falling into a defensive stance. Her eyes focused on a man covered in white, seated on one corner of the room. She eyed the person warily, unsure of whether to fight or flee. Why did he have a sheet draped over his head? Did she somehow stumble into a ward for mental patients?

"Ah, Miss Lockhart... what an unexpected… surprise." He inclined his head a little in her direction and spoke again.

She rolled her eyes in response. The last time she heard that voice it was when it gave the order for her execution. _Of course _she would run into him; she had the terrible luck of doing so whenever she was alone. She should have expected this. She released her pose and gestured vaguely at him. "What is with that ridiculous sheet over your head?" So transfixed was her eyes on the white cover that she stifled a gasp when he turned to her with a whirring sound.

He was in a wheelchair._ Shinra_ was in a wheelchair. Did the WEAPON...?

"The light hurts my eyes." He said as he straightened himself in his seat, folded his hands and turned to face her fully. "What can I do for you?"

She bit her lip at his politeness and almost regretted her earlier rudeness. But she waved away the thought of apologizing; he lost that right when he ordered her death. Still, she was curious. "Are you ill?" She never thought he stayed in Healin to avail of their services instead of run it.

"Obviously." If he smirked, she didn't see it. There was that whirring sound again as he came closer to where she was and stopped in front of a door near her. "Could you please?"

_I suppose I could spare him this courtesy… _She thought as she went in front of him, opened the door and held it. He came inside slowly as her eyes automatically looked around for signs of his illness. Her sight settled on something else entirely; a large black instrument case on one corner, collecting dust as it leaned forgotten beside a shelf.

He followed the direction of her eyes and startled her back to awareness with a laugh that quickly turned to a strangled choke. "I'm sorry Miss Lockhart, I can't oblige you today."

She shook her head and blushed a little."I didn't..." Embarrassment quickly replaced her feigned indifference. "I just..." She sighed and gathered her thoughts, it was best to get to the matter at hand. "My truck died a few miles from here and..."

"You seek transport," he nodded once. "We can bring you to Edge, if that's your intended destination." He stopped himself as he leaned his head on one hand. "You would have to wait until the Turks come back. The helicopter is here but I cannot pilot you at the moment and I imagine you would be more comfortable in familiar company."

Tifa was stunned; his ready offer of assistance baffled her. Furthermore, he _considered_ her comfort, was even thinking of taking her _himself_ had he been able to. Sure she was sweaty, terribly parched and would probably kill for a shower or a soft spot to sink in at the moment but she would never willingly accept anything from him. She shook her head, determined to take control of the situation. "I just need to use your phone. I'll call someone else to pick me up."

"Very well," he said as he gestured to the telephone on his desk.

She called Cloud first but when the voicemail picked up on her again, she hung up. She sighed and called Johnny to tell him of her plight. After a few minutes on hold, he told her that the only towing truck in Edge was otherwise engaged until tomorrow. He apologized profusely because he could not find a ride to get to her on such short notice. He hesitatingly suggested Cloud but Tifa told him that wasn't possible at the moment. She thanked him and ended the call. She stood very still, pondering her next move. She could call Cid but it wasn't fair to ask the older man to fly all the way from another continent just to get her to Edge. Or she could call Reeve...

"My offer still stands, Miss Lockhart."

She turned to Shinra, a little surprised at forgetting about his presence in the room. She couldn't tell what he was thinking or what the hell was he looking at and that aggravated her. Whatever possessed him to lounge around with that thing above his head even with the blinds already drawn was childish to say the least. "Take that thing off." She said in annoyance.

There was silence between them. Tifa held her breath, waiting for his response. Then he raised an unsteady hand and slid his cover off. She was rewarded with the sight of his white blonde hair, lighter now than she remembered it, white gauzes wrapped around his forehead and over his left eye. The remaining uncovered eye looked upon her calmly now, locked with her own.

She took her time examining him. She could see the deep lines under his eye and the gray veins that marked the skin under his bandages. Her eyes blinked and widened. She knew what those things meant: Rufus Shinra was a dying man.

"I preferred your old outfit better." He said, startling her out of her thoughts.

Her eyes narrowed. "You can wear that if you want to, I'll send you a pair."

He smirked and rested the side of his head on his knuckles. He stared at her for a long moment. "Do you pity me?" he asked as he bore her scrutiny.

She frowned at him. "You don't deserve it."

He sighed deeply. "Still an ingrate, I see. Do you even know how hard it was to arrange for the key?"

The lines between her brows deepened, this time in confusion.

"Scarlet was a little overzealous to have you put down. Had you stuck around a little longer, the door would have opened and you would've been escorted to safety, absolved of your crimes."

She frowned and clenched her fists. "So am I supposed to feel grateful for a pardon that never happened?"

He was silent for a long moment. "It was never my intention to harm you, Miss Lockhart, no matter how it may have seemed." He eyed with such an intensity that all she could do was look away. That was perhaps as close to an apology as she would get from him. But was it enough?

_No. _She steeled herself. "I don't need to hear this. It doesn't matter anymore..." _I have to be strong. I can't fall apart in front of him again…_

"Very well." She heard whirring sounds as he guided his chair closer to the table against the wall. "Would you like a drink? Let me offer you some refreshments while you decide on your next course of action." She was about to turn him down when she noticed his shaking fingers reach for a glass from a nearby tray. He placed the glass under the dispenser and tried to hold it steadily as water filled its depths.

She remembered what she read of Geostigma. In the advanced stages, there was a progressive motor control loss and excruciating pain in between spasmodic episodes. She watched him as he slowly turned the wheelchair to face her and lifted the now filled glass for her to take. She traced the dark stain of the sickness on the back of his shaking hand with her eyes. He was trying to hold it steady and she knew that the simple act was difficult to manage given his disease. Then she looked at his delicate fingers, too soon rendered useless by a disease no one could cure. He may never be able to play again and the realization hit her like a punch to the stomach.

She bowed her head and fought the tears that pooled in her eyes. All her anger toward him drained away leaving behind that vulnerable girl he found one night in Gold Saucer, years ago. She gently reached out to wrap both hands around his to stop his trembling. Their eyes met; hers watery and so full of questions, his calm and weary. "I…" her voice failed her.

"Don't worry it's not poisoned."

She gave a pained smile. "Y-You…"

"You're such a crybaby." He said with an all too familiar smirk.

"Yeah, well, don't tell anyone," she said in between sniffles.

He was about to say something but was interrupted as the door opened and Reno stepped in, followed by Rude. "Heya Boss—" His words were cut off as he stood in shock at the scene before him. "T-Tifa!" His eyes took in the sight; her tears, the smile on his face, and finally, their joined hands. "Are we _uhh_... interrupting somethin'?"

Tifa took the glass fully, turned away from them and downed the contents. She took a deep breath to calm her shaky breath and hastily wiped away the tears from her cheeks. When she turned back to them, her full composure was back on. "Thank you," she said to Shinra, ignoring Reno's remark. "I believe I'll take you up on your offer after all."

A small smile appeared on his lips. "Good." He turned to Reno and gave him instructions to head out. Reno protested at leaving him alone again but brightened when he realized he was going to Edge to escort Tifa.

"Alright, we'll wait for you outside _Miss Lockhart_." Reno addressed her with no small amount of suggestiveness. The door closed and they were left alone again.

Her eyes wandered to the cello case in one corner of the room. This might be the last time she would see him. A strange sense of serenity washed over her as she looked at him and tried to hold on to the image of him as she saw him now, bandages and all. Because this was not the proud man that would have sacrificed the world to his whim; this was a humbled man who lost almost everything he held dear and fought on a daily basis to cling on to life.

This, she decided, was the real man behind the name. And after all these years, they finally met.

But after she leaves this room she might never see him again.

She kneeled and placed her hand over his, her eyes getting watery again. "Thank you," she said as her thumb traced over the back of his hand, feeling the small warmth they exuded. "If… If I never see you—"

"_When_ we see each other again, Miss Lockhart…" He extended his other hand to tuck away an errant strand behind her ear. "Perhaps you can play for me instead?" He did not smile; there was something hard in his expression and that made her nod in acquiescence.

There will be no more tears between them. She will be strong until they see each other again.

"Survive this, and I will."

* * *

_Two more chapters to go! _


	9. RuTi: Opus 4 of 5

_Once, in a backward village in the middle of nowhere, he said he heard a hauntingly divine music that made it seem like time stopped. _

_It was one of the things that he could never forget as a child. And it made him pursue his music until he perfected it. _

_He also said that he never heard it again._

_Until he heard me play..._

_

* * *

_

**_Tenaremente_**

**_(tenderly)_**

_

* * *

_

A piano arrived at Seventh Heaven a few weeks after Geostigma was cured by Aerith's healing rain. It came with sheaves of musical scores bundled in another package that reminded her of days long past, when her mother would sit beside her and guide her fingers until she could play on her own. There was a note that read: _This suits you better than that lump of firewood you had._

She frowned in mild amusement. Had he always known about her piano? She went through the scores, reading the notes and hearing the melody play in her mind.

One of them stood out for her; _The Swan_ by Camille Saint-Saens. She could almost hear the melody as her eyes ran through the notes that dipped, soared and glided smoothly through the scales, like a swan on a lake. This was the song he played when they met. It had a cello lead and was meant to be accompanied by a piano when played. Her smile widened.

The children were suprised and even Cloud raised an eyebrow at the expression on her face. She warded off their questions with a vague answer of receiving a gift from an acquaintance and no amount of prodding could make her reveal more. The piano was set in one corner of the bar. It was a baby grand with a sleek reddish mahogany finish that brought out the ruby hues in her eyes. Her hands lovingly traced the surface of its contours before settling on the exposed ivory keys. She resisted the overwhelming urge to hug it; she had always wanted a grand piano when she was a little girl. And now the dream has come true.

They asked her to play and she looked at Cloud's blue eyes. She saw nostalgia there; a quiet eagerness and a hint of…hope? Something in her gut clenched and her eyes lowered in sadness. During the past year Cloud mentioned once or twice that she should take up the piano again, hinting they could buy one and set it up in the bar but she always dismissed the idea. She couldn't find it in her heart to play for him, or for anyone really. With a sigh, she shook her head and firmly said no.

She caught the dejected look on Cloud's face before he turned and ushered the kids away. Once, she would have done whatever he'd asked of her to bring a smile to his face. But now there were too many things between them and choices that could never be unmade.

_It's too late now. Too late_. She leaned her forehead against the cool surface of the piano. Only one thing could make her play now... _will_ make her play. She frowned at the thought. How could she promise to play for a man who carried a name she once cursed?

She had no answer. Or rather, she was afraid of what her answer could mean.

"You ever use that thing?" Reno asked one night he came by Seventh Heaven with Rude and Elena while he pointed at the new addition to the room.

She poured another shot into Rude's drink and nodded. "I used to. But I don't feel like playing anymore."

"What a shame. You're like _shachou_, given up music like that. Then he throws himself into work like it's the only thing that matters."

She raised an eyebrow as she handed him his glass. _Shinra has given up his cello?_ She paused, considering his words. She lifted her eyes to see Reno looking at her expectantly, as if waiting for her to react. She obliged him with a shrug. "I've heard him play twice before. It was… adequate."

Reno choked on his drink. "Wh—_what_? You've heard him play?" Even Rude raised an eyebrow at her.

"That's what I said," she arched another eyebrow at the men. "What's the big deal?"

"He threatened to castrate me last time I tried to snoop, and you've already heard him? _Twice_?_!_ You're lying Lockhart!"

She shrugged as she mixed a margarita for Elena. "You've never seen the piano here before right?" He nodded as his eyes went to the piano in the corner. "Guess who sent it?"

He returned an incredulous gaze at her. "You're making that up! There's _no_ way—"

"She isn't lying Reno," Elena said as lazily turned an eye toward them. "He made me handle it. Everything's built to his specification, even the color of the finish in the glaze."

"How come you never told us?" Reno looked at Elena with a betrayed look on his face while the smaller woman just shrugged. The conversation degenerated into other things that Elena might _not_ have told him and Tifa took her leave to attend to other customers.

That night, she stood by the piano and traced its contours with one finger. It was so lovely, so ready, and it was_ built_ for her. Was she worthy? Does she even remember? She could almost imagine the sneer in Shinra's face reflected in the polished wood, challenging her to show what she's got. She smirked and gathered her resolve. She'll show him alright. He'll eventually come around to collect on his word and when that happens, she'll be ready.

She recalled the etudes she could and gently eased her way back into the rhythm of playing. Long forgotten notes of well-loved pieces came back to her naturally as if they'd been with her all along. The music rushed out of her like river pours out to sea, bubbling forth and awakening the unused musical passageways in her mind. Her fingers were as agile as before; she smiled and felt a sense of accomplishment well inside her. She hasn't forgotten. Her mother would be so proud.

She started to play during the day when the bar was closed and kids were in school. Once, Cloud came back early from his deliveries and caught her playing. He was around more often now. She halted her movements just as she noticed his presence.

"Why did you stop?" he asked softly.

She kept her eyes fixed on the keys and gingerly stretched her fingers. "Because I don't play anymore."

"Tifa… you were a musical prodigy. Everyone knew you would go to places with your music, that's why I..." he stopped himself and shook his head. "That hasn't changed. You shouldn't be afraid to reclaim the good things from your past."

Her eyes remained at the ivory keys before her. He was right, she knew he was right. Just as she also knew that what he was saying referred to so much more than her music. She could almost hear the silent question he asked of her now. He shifted closer to where she sat and she could see the shadow his hand made on the floor reach out to touch her.

But she spoke before he could touch her. "It's what I've decided. I don't want to play anymore."

His hand stopped just as it was about to reach her shoulder. His voice seemed quieter as if he whispered to himself. "Then why do you, still?"

"Because I promised someone." She tilted her head to one side, away from him. She could not bear to turn around; she could feel disappointment radiate from him along with his warmth.

He lowered his hand. His next question was spoken in a betrayed voice that made it seem like she's wronged him somehow. "Who… who sent the piano Tifa?"

_Oh Shiva, I do not need this now… _She shook her head and stood up. She wanted to just rush out and barricade herself in her room for some well deserved rest but something made her whisk around and look at Cloud directly in the eye. She_ shouldn't_ have to walk away from this. She wouldn't be like him, no, she will not run from her problems. "You're not the only one who makes promises, Cloud. I made one too, years ago, under a handful of stars in the desert sky of Gold Saucer…"

Cloud flinched and looked away. She knew he remembered that night. How could he not? It was the last night they spent with her… with Aerith. It was the last night any of them were happy.

He was silent for a while. When he spoke, it was barely above a whisper. "I made a promise once, under a sea of stars. To you…"

Tifa frowned and turned her head away from him. "And you kept it… even through neither of us remembered for quite sometime." She closed her eyes, hoping to fight back the tears that were edging around her eyes."It gets old, doesn't it? This business of making promises to save people. They quickly get out of hand… suddenly your life isn't your own anymore and there are these hopes and you're thinking of sharing so much more, like your life…"

Cloud raised his eyes and stepped closer to her. "Tifa…"

She shook her head. "You've kept your promise to me Cloud. That was enough." She gave a weak smile and waved him away. "You chose another to love and protect..."

"Tifa I—"

"And it's okay." She looked him in the eye and smiled a little. "We all loved Aerith. I…" She bit her lip, not wanting to say something she could very well regret. "I… understand that you love her, still."

Suddenly his hand was on her arm, his hand was cold and trembling. "Tifa…" he whispered, his eyes dangerously bright. "I loved you too. I never stopped." He said it with such tenderness that made her want to bury herself in his arms and stay there.

_But I was always at second place. Perhaps I always will. _She smiled sadly and placed her hand atop his. "Thank you. I waited so long before to hear those words." She squeezed his hand and he let go of her arm to lace his fingers with hers. Her eyes drifted over his shoulders, to the piano sitting quietly on its lonely corner. She could see a faint reflection of their figures reflected on its sheen as Cloud bent down and placed a light kiss on her lips. She didn't close her eyes; she paid attention to every little feeling his close proximity brought. She waited for her heart to race, for the blissful sigh to escape her lips as she lost herself in the moment.

But there was nothing. Her pulse remained steady, and the euphoria she expected from having that moment finally happen, something she's dreamt about for a long time, just wasn't there. The spark was absent and the silence in her heart was deafening. Her eyes drifted to the piano again and suddenly she understood the gravity of the promise she made to Shinra that night.

It wasn't just a decision to be there for him, to wipe his slate clean of the trespasses his company had done to her past, it had also been a promise to try to love another man… It was her point of no return, because somehow, the arrogant jerk had wormed his way into her thoughts and lodged himself in a place she thought would always belong to Cloud.

She turned to the other man now, standing before her with a confused look with on his blue eyes. She kept expecting him to smirk, flip his hair and mock her, but she knew it would never happen. She had hoped he would be another man… but he wasn't. "I'm sorry…" she stepped back from him and gently disentangled her hand from his. "But my feelings have changed."

"Tifa? I don't understand..."

She closed her eyes and gave a small smile at the unexpected dryness in her eyes. No tears this time? She raised her palm to cup his cheek. "This is what happens when you run away for too long. I've moved on…" She said with a hint of disbelief in her voice. "I never thought it would happen, but it did. I'm sorry Cloud, but I don't love you the way I used to. Not anymore."

He was silent for a long moment, then he touched the hand that held his cheek and gazed directly in her eyes. "Maybe… maybe your heart will change again with time."

She laughed and patted his cheek. "I doubt it. But if it ever does, you'll be the first to know." With that, she turned and left him.

She was ready for Shinra when he finally came weeks later. He strode in like a ghost, ethereal and resplendent in white. He'd shed the bandages from his disease and was dressed in full regale; his white suit reminiscent of what he used to wear before the Meteor Crisis. He stopped a few paces before her and held her eyes. He waited for her to break her silence or her stare, whichever came first. The expression on his face gave nothing away.

She folded from their brief staring contest and gave a small smile. She had forgotten how pompous he looked in his formal suit. She clapped her hands and announced to the rest of the patrons that they were closing and ignored the curious looks thrown their way. She came out from behind the bar and walked towards him. They stared at each other for a moment before she smiled again. He watched her expectantly as he waited for her next move, ice blue eyes giving nothing away. There were no words needed between them. She knew what he came here for.

After ushering the rest of the patrons away and closing the door, she walked over to the piano and pulled up the cover. Then she ran her fingers down the white keys, hitting the _do's_ in different octaves as her fingers brushed over them. She took a deep breath, sat down and straightened her back, the way she always prepared herself when she was younger. With one last look to his direction to make sure that he made himself comfortable, she began a catchy tune she once heard as a fanfare in Junon. It was a festive and colourful piece played in his honor all those years ago when the known world celebrated his promotion.

She did the upstrokes with a smile and let out silent giggles as she recalled the good days gone by, when she was on a grand adventure with her friends and death was the furthest thing from their minds. In her mind's eye, the memory replayed effortlessly; the parade in Junon, the yellow confetti raining from the skies, the synchronized salutes and exhibition of the soldiers, their uniform and guns glittering in the sun. She remembered his smile, his beautiful sardonic smile, captured in a clip the networks showed over and over again for days after the event. He was a prince, a rightful heir, who finally ascended to the peak he was bred for. All the world celebrated the change he represented. His future seemed bright. She ended the piece with high note and let it linger in the night.

"You remember." An amused voice floated up to her and she turned her head to meet his smile. "But you shouldn't waste your melodies on something so trivial. Play something with a soul."

"How would a heartless bastard like you even know if something has a soul anyway?"

His answering laugh startled her so much that all she could do was stare at his open mouth which broadened with the widest smile she had ever seen on him. He looked so carefree as his eyes crinkled in amusement. "Oh Miss Lockhart, you've been reading too many tabloids…" He laughed again at his joke and waved her to get on with it. "Now continue playing before this heartless bastard loses his patience." He chuckled again.

_There's a sound I never thought I would hear. _His mirth was contagious and soon she found herself smiling as she took a deep breath and focused on the piano before her once again. She started a rhapsody her mother composed before she passed away. It was her last legacy to him, a song dedicated to her which became the defining music of her life. As the melody wove around them, the things she wanted to forget came rushing back; images of a young girl with mud on her cheeks running through unpaved streets with her friends, the little girl with dark brown eyes and a wide smile who loved to stare at the stars while dreaming of a man who could offer her the world.

She remembered the cold caress of the mountain air on her skin, the song of the crickets by her window as she fell asleep… The memory of a simple home with a family that she loved; where she was cared for and was _safe_. These were things that she longed for_ still_, but remained stubbornly out of reach. They were ripped away one fateful night because of a corporate science project gone horribly wrong.

She stopped, unable to continue as the tears blurred her eyes. There was silence in the room as silent sobs racked through her body and she tried to keep most of it down. Tifa closed her eyes and composed herself. Shinra had not made sound nor movement of protest at her abrupt end, but she dare not look at him at that point.

"I've got one more song to play," she said, more to herself than to him. Then she started a gentle tune that flowed tentatively at first, but gradually eased into a second movement where scattered notes were grounded by an easy underlying rhythm, like water rippling through a placid surface. It was a piano rendition of a piece she always loved, aptly titled "Melodies of Life". Notes rippled into one another and wove into the air. She played it in cantabile; a song drifting easily through like a life lived vicariously. She poured forth all the remaining hope in her heart and played as if each melody was the last.

She concluded the piece with a calm finality. The last note lingered in the air around them, like how the toll of a bell echoes in the night.

She remained still for a long moment before she stood slowly and faced him. She thought she would see him leaning back with a smirk on his face with a drink on one hand. But she never expected to see him slumped forward, his head on his hands, body dangerously close to toppling down from the chair. She frowned went to his side immediately. Was he okay? She knelt before him and reached out a hand to touch him, but changed her mind when she saw the small tremors that wracked his body and wrapped her arms around him instead.

He stiffened but allowed her touch, letting her embrace linger. When he finally pulled away, his sharp blue eyes turned to her and she didn't know if she should smile or frown. There was something broken there; as if the unforgiving edge of each blue shard in his pupils cut to his very soul.

She must have gasped because he stood up in haste as if her gaze scalded him and sent the chair crashing behind him. He stepped away from her. "I… I must go." His voice was tight and shaky. He looked like he was about to say something else but he changed his mind and turned to leave.

Her hand went up to touch him as he passed her but she stopped herself, opting for words instead. "Mr. Shinra," He lifted his eyes but could not meet her gaze. "When you come back, bring your cello."

"…_why?_" His voice came as a whisper, easily lost in the passing chill of the night.

There was so many ways she could have answered his question. She chose the simplest one. "I want to see you again."

He left and never looked back.

* * *

_**A / N:** The Swan is an actual classical piece by a composer of the same name. Go check it out in YouTube, you won't be disappointed._


	10. RuTi: Opus 5 of 5

_Did I love him?_

_No. But I loved his music. _

_No level of mastery could fake the emotions he could stir with just a flick of his wrist. Or the way that my heart responded to it. _

_I did not love him, no. _

_But it was damn close._

_

* * *

_

_**Legato **_

_**(joined; smoothly, in a connected manner)**_

_**

* * *

**_

More than a year has passed since the piano arrived, and several months since Shinra himself came around.

There were many days now when she found it hard to get up from her bed and face her tasks. It all seemed too much effort. Sometimes she wonders why she bothers at all. Why go on with all the drudgery?

She considers leaving. Then her eyes settle on the dark, sleek form of her piano and a sad smile tugs forms on her face. Could she ever find another space for it? Moving it around will be such a hassle, so she stays.

In the darkest hour of the night their neighbourhood comes alive with music from her closed bar. The melodies drift to haunt the dreams of her neighbours like the cold night air; wrapping around them with notes about loss, longing and a fragile hope of being happy again. She knows she's waiting again, though for purely different reasons.

He was never far from her thoughts. She could remember everything about that night he came to her. Most of all, she remembered the way he looked before he left; like a broken man who realized he did not have all the pieces to put himself back together. She waits for the time when he would finally realize he left a piece of himself with her, just as he had something of hers with him.

But he stays away, and so does she. She wonders if she'll ever see him again. Sometimes she thinks it will only be a matter of time until he comes around, while sometimes she is convinced that she had been abandoned by the wayside again, relegated to a memory too easily forgotten. On those nights, she would be inconsolable and cries herself to sleep. Only the piano helps her cope. It served as a painful reminder of him as well as a salve to her broken heart.

Cloud expressed worry and concern for her and tried to offer what comfort he could. But she could find no relief in his arms, and could not even explain her pain. He knew though, that she was already lost to him. Her heart called for somebody else, just like her music always seemed incomplete. She still could not share his music with him, or with anyone else.

Cloud understood this and told her that he would always love her, no matter what happens to them in the future. He respected her wishes to be left alone and loved her enough to set her free. He moved out after a while and the kids went on to live with Barret in North Corel. They were older now, and understood that they would never have their parents in Tifa and Cloud. It was hard on everyone, but things would be better for everyone else that way. Tifa closed the bar and travelled for a while, revisiting the places they had passed through before and going to new ones that she'd never been to.

One night, months later, she found herself coming back to a house she barely recognized. The place was looted during her absence and most of the bottles on the shelf was empty or broken on the floor. Only the piano remained untouched in the corner, though covered in a thin layer of dust that had collected in her absence. She sighed and turned to prop the large table against the door when she noticed another presence inside. There was a man wrapped in shadows, sitting in one of the corner booths, enjoying a bottle of whiskey set upon the table.

He moved to stand and the streetlights from outside caught the edges of blonde hair on his head and the black sweater and pants that he wore.

"Cloud? What are you doing in the dark?" she called and her fingers found the switch by the door. She was about to say more but she caught herself in time. The light revealed a completely different person; white blonde hair with no spikes, stiff posture and long and slender hands more used to holding guns than a sword. She took a deep, steadying breath and looked at anywhere but his eyes. _He was here_. But suddenly she didn't want to see him again. She grabbed the bag she dropped on the floor and stormed out of the main area, heading for the door that led to the living quarters.

"Miss Lockhart," he called out and grabbed her arm, pulling her to him. He caught her by the door frame and she kept her eyes away from his face. She didn't want to see him. Her eyes drifted to the piano and the cello case that leaned against one leg, collecting another layer of dust.

"What are you doing here?" She demanded in an annoyed tone. She tugged her arms free and crossed it in front of her chest, still refusing to look at his face. Her eyes found purchase at his exposed neck. "The bar's out of business, if you came here to drink, go do it somewhere else," she said with a detached finality.

He stepped close to her until all she could see was that pale patch of skin and the way that his chest moved with each breath that he took. She could see the fine fibres of his black sweater and the beginning of small pale hairs on his chest. She felt his breath on her face, as he spoke, moving the strands of her hair.

"I was told last time that my presence in this establishment was desired. Though when I finally came, there was no one around." His throat gave tiny movements as he spoke and she realized that she had never been this close to him before. He could easily lean down and kiss her, and the thought was enough to cause her breath to hitch and send tingles down her spine. Still, she remained silent and kept her eyes away from his.

"Why won't you look at me?"

She frowned and tried to control her overloading senses. "Why should I? You're a heartless bastard who didn't show up for days, weeks, months, almost a _year_—" Her breath caught at her next inhale as he tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers felt smooth and warm. "Did you really think I would wait for you forever?" she said breathlessly as the inevitable tears made its way down her cheeks. She saw his fingers come up with something white tucked between them and touch her cheek. "It seemed that you would. I came prepared," he said as he wiped away her tears. "And I'm here. Isn't that what matters?"

She shook her head stubbornly. "You're not really here are you? I'm going to wake up soon and find that this never happened at all. It's all a dream."

"I'm _here_." He said as he used both his fingers to cup on either side of her face. "And we have a lot to talk about so…"

"No." She shook her head and suddenly she was in through the door and was about to slam it shut when he nudged his foot between the door. In the confusion, she lifted her eyes to his. Big mistake.

There was something different about him. He was thinner than when she last saw him and there were lines around his eyes that weren't there even when he had Geostigma. "I came here because I wanted to see you again." She stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights. "I tried to stay away, but I couldn't. And when I came and found out that you weren't here I came every _night_ until you finally came back. I've waited too long for this. We will talk and I'm not taking no for an answer."

He tried to nudge the door open but she held her ground. She shook her head, determined to be stubborn. "Oh yeah? What could we possibly have to talk about?"

"I missed you."

"What?" she asked in confusion.

"I missed you," he repeated. He sighed and lowered his eyes. "Everyday." He continued in a low tone. "Everyday I wonder why I let you go. And everyday I tried to convince myself to stay away. I asked the Turks to come check up on you every now and then but it wasn't enough. I imagined you, sitting there," he motioned to the piano on the corner, "and my heart ached. And I'm tired. I'm tired of the silence between us. I wanted to see you, to hear you play again. I even brought my cello like you asked even though I can't play anymore... It's painful. But if you want me to, I'll try to play again. I'll do it. For _you_."

She stared at him for a long moment before tears ran down her cheek to her smile. Her eyes and smile was brighter than it had any right to be. "Arrogant jerk, why couldn't you just have said all of this before?" She opened the door and immediately felt his arms wrap around her. He held her tightly and buried his head in her hair.

She missed him too; she knew she had no reason to, but she still did. Her trip around the world served to distract her from her pain but she would always, always find her thoughts drift back to him. "Are you sure about this?" he asked as he leaned his head against hers. "I warn you, I'm not like that idiot you used to live with. If you choose me, I will never let you go."

"Good." She said as she held onto him tightly, it was sure to leave bruises. "You captured my interest the moment I heard you play... And the second time sealed the deal. Because you played for me and gave me hope again."

"And you're like a song I can't get out of my head. I always hear you in the strangest of moments and remember your tears. You've suffered so much but you still move on. You shine so brightly everything else pales in comparison. And even at your darkest hour, you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

There were no further words said between them that night.

The first rays of the dawn found them nestled against each other amidst white sheets. His arms were around her as he held her in a loose embrace. Sunlight caught her eyes and she squinted at the glare. Tifa leaned her head closer to his neck and found shade under his chin. Her eyes traced loose hair that glinted red in the sunlight and she tucked the loose stray strands away as his eyes lazily opened at her movement.

"How come it took you so long to come around?"

He leaned forward and placed his forehead against hers. "If I had known this would happen, I would have come sooner."

"And now? How do you feel?"

He closed his eyes and smiled "Now… I've never felt so many things all at once. You make me _feel_."

It was her turn to smile. "When I first met you, I thought you were a terribly cold and inhuman. That you didn't know how to feel."

"Mm. I must have made an impression." He said with a smirk.

She smiled and lifted her hand to trace the line of his jaw with one finger. "You made me feel too. Things I never thought I would ever experience." she shifted to a more comfortable position in his arms. "Do you want to know what I think of you now?" She felt him nod. "I think you're still an arrogant, good-for-nothing spoiled brat who's too handsome and rich for his own good..."

He smiled leaned forward, kissing her nose.

"And by the way, how could you be drinking whiskey when all the other drinks in my bar was thrashed."

He laughed and the vibration of his body felt pleasant around her. "I'll pay you for that."

Her eyebrows raised. "You thrashed my bar?"

"The frustration needed an outlet at the time."

"Why would you want to take it out on my hapless bar?"

"I thought I was too late." He frowned and lowered his head. "I thought you were lost to me."

"Well don't get cocky now. I'm only hanging around you now for the music and the sex."

"In that order, huh?" The teasing tone in his voice was back. "I think I should charge you for such prime services."

She raised an eyebrow at him in reply. "You should pay _me_ to put up with you. Unlike you, I'm fair, so I suppose we could _trade_."

He chuckled then tightened his hold on her. "I never should have let you go that day."

She turned to him and met his eyes. "So why did you?"

He smiled and nuzzled his head on her hair. "Because at the time, I was bored and just wanted to play."

"Didn't expect things to lead here, did you?"

He leaned forward and they shared a shy kiss. "No. But I'm glad it did." She never thought there could be such gentleness to him, much like she had almost not believed the music he could pour forth. When they parted to catch their breath, he smiled at her, light blue eyes glinting in the sun. The cold dewy air from last night blew through the open window, birds sang their morning greetings and the sounds of people starting their day had begun.

Amidst all this, they were quiet and still, safe in each other's arms. Their eyes communicated so much more than words ever could.

"Goodmorning Rufus."

"Goodnight Tifa."

_Beginning / End_

_

* * *

_

_**A/N**: Thank you for putting up with the length of this oneshot. I don't honestly know when I'll be able to write another oneshot again but I'm not completely abandoning this little collection of mine._

_Thank you very much for reading! Till next time, folks. : )_


	11. TsengTifa: For Hope

**Type:** Fanfiction  
**Genre:** Romance  
**Fandom: **Final Fantasy VII  
**Pairings:** Tifa / Tseng  
**Rating:** T  
**Author's Notes:**

One of the most memorable things to experience is that moment when two people begin to see the other as something _more_. More than just a guy I once met, or more than just the pretty thing on the street... More than just the uniform, or the terrorist that defended the planet.

TsengTifa. POV play. Two shot.

* * *

Tifa

* * *

"Sometimes, I swear Aerith, you had it easy. You've done your part and now you don't have to deal with what's left behind."

Her eyes settled on a pale reflection of herself on a moonlit lake. The woman that stared back would never acquire the delicate beauty that bloomed more fragrantly than flowers. That was reserved for her late friend. Her own eyes were haunted and her skin was marred by scars both seen and unseen.

She shook her head and tried to resume easy, albeit one-sided conversation she had began. That's what she came here for anyway... mostly. "Barret wants to go back to Midgar, pick up Marlene and rebuild in Meteor's wake. I suppose Cloud and I would tag along, too..." Her voice trailed off and a frown creased the space between her brows. "We have to keep moving forward, right? _A_-and we really don't have anywhere else to go..." She gave a bitter smile. Her fingers started to fidget with the clasps that connected her suspenders to her skirt as her frown deepened.

There was so much left unsaid; a part of her was reluctant to give voice to what really unsettled her heart. To say what she didn't want to say would make it real... Too real. And she had no right to tarnish this place with her problems. Aerith was beyond those now. She didn't have to carry the burden of the living.

"How do things look like from beyond the veil?" She chuckled at how rhetorical her question seemed. "Is it peaceful?" Her sigh resonated across the silent lake and she shivered despite herself. "Is there hope?"

There was no reply of course. She could only hear the rustling of leaves from the occasional breeze.

She stood in respectful silence for a while, letting the coldness of the night settle more firmly around her. She felt immune to it somehow, even if there were clumps of snow around her, though not fully covering the ground. Perhaps the immunity was due to a lingering magic in the air. Or perhaps she was already numb to that extent...

She was surrounded by silence, stillness and a cold that she did not feel. It was too much.

"It's a lie, you know." She whispered as tears ran down her cheeks. "This world is shattered like glass and there is no way to piece it back together. His heart, my own, they will never be whole." She lifted her hands, dirty nails and scabs abound on their once smooth surface. "My hands are tired from trying. I want to rest too."

She sank to the ground and hugged her knees, the tip of her travel-worn boots straying past the earth that separated the water from shore. Her tears came quietly down her cheeks as she bowed her head in defeat. She no longer had the strength to stop them.

Her muffled sobs echoed in the emptiness around her. This was the only place that she could cry freely and so she held nothing back.

Her throat hurt and her nose glowed red from her exertions. She let out one last hitched breath and then stretched out her legs and stared at the lake in front. From where she sat, she could see the pinprick light of stars above them, surrounded by the glowing trees of the magical forest…

And a silhouette of a man that stood behind her, watching.

She turned her head sharply to one side and confirmed this with her own eyes. He could almost blend into the darkness between the glow of the trees, had he not stood in front of a particularly large trunk. He made no move to retreat but instead came forward to where the moonlight and the iridescence of the trees illuminated his features. His dark eyes locked with hers.

"_Turk!_" She hissed as she clenched her fist and stood up to fully to face him. What was his name again? It was their leader, the one who she had barely seen except during the time when he himself kidnapped Aerith, and once again on the Temple of the Ancients where he lay bleeding from a sword wound that she knew too tell...

"I mean no harm Miss Lockhart," his voice was surprisingly soft and smooth, so out-of-place with what she knew of the older man. "I did not come here… for you."

Had she ever heard his voice before? She couldn't recall. If she had, she must not have been paying attention because she could swear she would not have expected him to have a side that was almost tender.

Her eyes narrowed and she banished the thought immediately from her mind. She focused on the older man, scrutinizing him from head to toe. He looked like he stepped out of an old photo covered as he was in black attire from neck to wrist, hip to shoes. The only thing that had a little color was his face, what was exposed of his hands, and the violet blossoms that he held. Her eyes lingered at what he held before she raised them again to his eyes in challenge. "What are you doing here Turk?" She was proud of the way her voice carried on steadily, even as she felt her wet cheeks grow cold with a passing breeze.

They were enemies; there was no doubt about that. In her eyes, he was a remnant of a corporation that had taken so much from her, and where she had given so much still to bring down. Now that Sephiroth is gone, Shinra and Midgar in ruins, what happens between AVALANCHE and the Turks?

The silence grew uncomfortable between them.

"Miss Lockhart..." Tseng had not moved from the safe distance that he kept from her and slowly lowered his eyes to the flowers he held. That drew Tifa's attention to them once again. "You are not the only one who feels her loss."

It took a few seconds before what he said sank in. And when they did, the tension from her muscles eased. She unclenched her hands and felt the doubt ease out of her mind. Of course.

_Of course. _

It was for Aerith. He was visiting her. His flowers were for her. The war was over now and what remained was a loss so monumental, both sides felt it. The last Ancient was dead. But wasn't she also a girl made of such lightness and delicacy that every man she came across with was bound to fall in love her?

And didn't Aerith whisper of a closeness to this man in particular, something mentioned once and with such wistfulness, but was never spoken of again?

Was it really so hard to believe that the man before him held romantic feelings for her friend? She looked at him in a new light and nodded. "I will leave you to it then." She started to walk away from him when she heard his soft voice again.

"Miss Lockhart..." Tifa paused in her movements. The silence went on for quite a while that she began to doubt if he'd even spoken in the first place. She turned to him.

Without raising his eyes, he spoke. "Did she... speak of me at all?"

Tifa's eyes widened at the unexpected question. He seemed... hesitant? A flicker of amusement arose within her. So he was not above asking. Politely, at that.

She looked up at the dark sky. Heavy clouds had appeared, covering the stars from her view. _Do you want me to tell him?_

Then, as if in reply, tiny flakes of snow fell down from above. It was so delicate that it floated mostly in the air around them, never following a straightforward path to the ground. Tifa held out her hand and one delicately fluttered down to her palm.

Was that a yes?

With a small, tired smile, she looked at him and noticed that he had been staring at her intently. She nodded. "She spoke of you with fondness. Even after... everything."

He lifted his head to the sky and closed his eyes. For a brief moment, a ghost of a smile flitted across his lips. "She's always been so forgiving." He whispered.

"You loved her." It was not a question and she doesn't even know why she uttered it as easily as she had. But it was out there now; would he admit it? Would he lie?

He levelled his head and looked at her with his dark eyes. There was a depth there that seemed endless. She was sure that he was full of secrets that he would take to the grave. And she was almost sure that some involved Aerith.

She was about to give up on waiting for his answer, when it came.

"I used to."

"What changed?" Again she surprised herself by voicing her question. Something urged her on. She wanted him to speak more, to admit things he probably never said to anyone... Even to the one who needed to hear it the most.

He frowned and lowered his eyes. "I hurt her. What I felt was no longer love but hate." He paused and the frown deepened. "Hate because she could never be mine."

A shiver ran down her spine. That was the truth. She could feel it in her bones.

Tifa looked to the side and watched the flakes dance about in the air. Why she never felt cold, she'll never know. A heart beat passed. Another. Then her eyes widened as she felt an errant tear slide down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away.

She turned to him again, and realized that he was watching her. She shook her head. "You did not hate her, you hated yourself. You weren't enough to capture and keep her love. You... were left behind. He's moved on, and you could not follow..." she trailed off into silence.

"Miss Lockhart..."

She shrugged dismissively, aware that her thoughts had run away with her and that she was speaking of other things now. He had given her his truth. This was her own.

"Miss Lockhart," he began again. "I don't think you were left behind." Her head turned sharply to him. "You were on separate paths to begin with. You can't follow where the other person has gone because it's not where you want to be."

She looked back at him with puffy and bloodshot eyes. She suddenly felt so heavy once again, as she realized that she was carrying a heavy weight all along, and she had become aware of it now. She shook her head; she can't think of what he said to her now. It was too much. She's already cried enough for one evening. "Why are you here?" Her voice came out raw and she regretted the way her voice faltered at the end.

He tore his eyes away from her and turned to the lake in front of him. "I came to ask for one last forgiveness. And you?"

She swallowed a lump on her throat. Why was he being so honest to her? Was she going to kill her at the end of this?

The stray, morbid thought, unlikely as it was brought a strange sense of calm and ease with it. It's funny; the thoughts that cross her mind during unguarded moments.

"I tried… to look for hope." _But I did not find any… _she added silently in her mind.

Tseng frowned then started to move. Tifa took a step back, her heartbeat picked up pace after being steady for so long. He seemed to be moving in on her. He stopped when he was only a few steps away and looked at her intensely. His eyes were dark and unreadable.

"Hope cannot be found among the dead." He looked at the flowers he held in his hand. Then, with a deep breath, he stepped back and pitched the flowers as far as he could into the lake. In midflight, the thin string that held them together snapped and the stalks of flowers rained down, along with the snowflakes.

Tifa looked in awe as time seemed to slow. She watched the deep violet blossoms descend with flecks of pure white snow, settling into the dark surface of the lake as gently as a falling feather.

She turned to her unlikely companion to witness this sight. This close she could almost feel the sadness that radiated from him like a heat. She wondered if it had always been there. If he suffered in silence all this time; if he was just better at hiding the fact that he was lost, just like the rest of them.

He closed his unusually bright eyes. "There are only regrets," he murmured.

She felt something tug at her heart. But she kept her distance and could only continue to look at him in silence. She wondered if anyone has ever seen him like this. Or if they had all died before they could spread the tale. The thought was almost enough to make her smile. Almost.

When he opened his eyes, they were bright and dry again. He turned to her.

She looked away, towards the flowers on the lake, to the surroundings trees, then on the shell edifice enclosed by the water. She closed her eyes, letting out a jittery sigh. "Rest well, Aerith."

"Rest well," he echoed.

Their eyes met and they said their goodbyes to each other silently. Tseng bowed to her and she did the same, honouring her opponent.

Though she wasn't sure if they could still be considered enemies at this point.

Without turning back, she walked the path that would lead her out of the City of the Ancients. She let out an exhale she didn't know she was holding once she was surrounded by mystical white trees. There was lightness in her step that stayed with her even when she finally cleared the trees and returned back to the nearby village.

That night, Tifa dreamt that she saw her friend tending to field where violets bloomed as far as the eyes can see. Her delicate bangled hand picked one up, and then she turned to her with a smile. She delicately placed a violet blossom in the locks of Tifa's chocolate brown hair.

"Are you giving me your blessing?" Tifa asked before Aerith could even withdraw her hand from her ear. She heard a giggle and then Aerith was gone. The field around her brightened until it was made of pure light.

And she realized that she was staring into the light of the morning from an open window. She groaned and buried her face into the pillows once more, away from the light. But something tickled her nose with its texture and scent.

She opened her eyes to a violet blur right on her pillow. She sat up and picked the delicate flower between her fingers and her eyes looked around the room.

She noticed a note on the bedside table to her left. She took it and in the light of the morning read the elegantly scrawled letters in black ink.

The message was simple and direct to the point.

Tifa smiled. A beautiful morning was ahead of her.

* * *

_Part 2 Will feature Tseng's POV. Stay tuned! Thanks for reading, and do leave a review if you enjoyed the read._


End file.
